Countdown to the Showdown
by FunOne007
Summary: -Itex failed. When initiating the Bisect Plan, the virus used accidentally wiped out everyone ages 16 and up. Meanwhile, it seems there's no more world left for Max to save. Or is there? Nothing is ever as it seems...- Fax, but realistically. Rated T
1. PROLOGUE

**A/N: NOTE: SO, I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT I TEND TO SKIP THROUGH AUTHOR NOTES. PLEASE DON'T DO THE SAME WITH THIS STORY BECAUSE 99 PERCENT OF THE TIME, I WILL HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO SAY. SO READ THEM, POR FAVOR. I PROMISE THAT THE REST OF THEM WON'T BE THIS LONG. I JUST NEED TO EXPLAIN A FEW THINGS FIRST. Hey, folks! Welcome to my first fanfiction…wait! Don't leave! I know it's my first and all, but I assure you that it's not my first time **_**writing**_**. **

**Well, anyways, since fanfiction can be annoying with its strict 255 character limit for the summary, here's the **_**full**_** summary:**

**FULL SUMMARY~**

"**Itex failed. Oh so **_**desperately**_** failed. After initiating the Bisect Plan, the virus used changed its nature and drastic results occurred. Months later, no adults are left surviving, because **_**everyone approximately the age of 16 and older was killed by the mutated virus**_**.**__**A year later, it seems that there's no more world left for Max to save****. Or is there? Nothing is ever as it seems…"**

**Alright, then, got a feel of this story? **

**A bit more about it, in case you were wondering: I have spent **_**a ton**_** of time brainstorming about how this story will end up. And I've got it all planned out. This story is designed to fit in seamlessly with the other books. It will be as in-character as I can make it. Oh, and it is post-****MAX****, by the way, since I haven't read ****FANG**** yet. So, I guess we can just forget about ****FANG****, eh? (Oh, and please! No spoilers about what happens in ****FANG****! I don't want to know!) You know how the rest of the series have been in sets of trilogies? Like, books 1-3 are THE FUGITIVES and books 4-6 are THE PROTECTORS? Well, this is going to be another trilogy within the series. since it's not going to be global warming-ish. It's called THE SAVIORS. And I'm actually planning to do a trilogy, not just this story! I've already got their summaries planned! Yay! Oh, and one more thing, so no one picks on me for this, it's in 'novel' format. That means that any fragments are supposed to be there. Also, déjà vu will be a major theme in this story. So, in case you see something from a previous book, or if you recognize something that I have already said, then it's supposed to be that way. It's not that I'm being unoriginal, or whatever, but déjà vu just really plays a big role in this. 'Kay, I think that's just about it. Here are a few bullets summarizing what I just talked about.**

**-I spent a lot of time on this, so it's already planned out.**

**-The story is designed to fit in seamlessly with the other books.**

**-It's post-****MAX****. That means I haven't read ****FANG**** yet, so **_**no spoilers**_**!**

**-This will be a separate trilogy (yep, two more sequels!) like books 1-3 and books 4-6 were. This one is called THE SAVIORS.**

**-This story is in novel format so fragments are intentional and allowed.**

**-Déjà vu will be seen a lot throughout this story, whether it's from a previous novel of Maximum Ride, or if I've already mentioned it. It's meant to be that way, so I'm not just doing that because I lack ideas.**

**That's pretty much it, guys! This chapter will be in the 'villain' point-of-view, like how a lot of the Maximum Ride books start out nowadays. Next chapter will be Max's point-of-view. And since this chapter doesn't tell much about the story, I will update another (or a few more) chapter(s) today.**

**Which leads me to the disclaimer…**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN (OR PWN, HAHA I ACCIDENTALLY TYPED THAT BEFORE) MAXIMUM RIDE'S CHARACTERS OR PLOT. JP DOES. WHAT I **_**DO **_**OWN IS **_**THIS **_**PLOT. SO NO STEALING, POR FAVOR!**

**Okay, then, this A/N is pretty much done! Welcome to the countdown. Hope you enjoy.**

**-Z**

_**And finally… drum roll, please! The story! I introduce to you, the first of THE SAVIORS trilogy: **__**Countdown to the Showdown**__**!**_

_**PROLOGUE**_

**Chu Corporations Headquarters. Rincon, New Mexico.**

MR. CHU PRESSED the button on his desk signaling his second-in-command to enter his office. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, deep in thought.

The past week had been quite the stressful one. So much planning to do, places to be, people to see. Recently, he had had to move his headquarters from just off the Hawaiian coastline to somewhere more discreet. Rincon was the perfect place. It was quiet, isolated, and not at all ostentatious. Of course, the population of two hundred and twenty people and the vast desert and farmlands played a huge role in his choice. Silently, he cursed the lousy bird kids, every single one of them. If it wasn't for them, particularly the eldest female, he wouldn't have had nearly so much weight on his shoulders.

Of course, there were more prominent issues that he had to deal with. Not to his approval, Mr. Chu was made part-leader of the 'revolutionary' plan. That was the advantageous part. What _really_ agitated him was that he was forced to shepherd the whole deal by telling his assistants to make phone calls, persuading other major companies and corporations to assemble with Itex and his corporation, and doing other tasks as well. Itex was getting on his last nerve, and he desperately wanted to forget their partnership and just get them out of his thinning hair. Of course, at this point, that was not possible. Despite all the frustrations, he couldn't deny the benefits he was getting out of the alliance.

He heard the slight _click_ of the expensive wooden doors and opened his eyes to find his second-in-command looking quite stoic with the exception of the slightest jaw twitch, the smallest swallow. Measly little shrimps, all of his employees were. He'd hired them because they were easy to obey him and toe the line. Too bad that the only reason they did that was out of fear, not respect. Fortunately, the majority of them weren't going to live to tell the tale.

"The responses?" Mr. Chu questioned, his thick accent obscuring his words.

The well-trusted assistant gulped once more. Mr. Chu could see right through his pretense and could tell that the confidence radiating off of him like his radiation plants was nothing more than bravado. He acknowledged the fact that the second-in-command did not agree with the idea of eliminating the weak. But his opinions were of no importance to Mr. Chu. Just so long as the assistant would function until he was retired, it suited him just fine. "All heads have reported that they are ready. You may initiate the countdown whenever you're ready, sir." He said briskly and straight to the point.

"All?" Mr. Chu asked. _Impressive,_ he wondered. _Especially knowing how incompetent Itex was in just capturing and securing a few pesky mutants._ He continued on without an answer. "And their statuses?" He all but sneered.

"All corporations have the Bisect Plan Virus in position. They are just waiting for your signal, sir."

A faint smile played on Mr. Chu's lips. It was finally happening. He had barely done anything in aid for the Bisect Plan compared to Itex. He learned that all one had to do was throw a bit of money at the company to use for research, and they would give you a large sum of credit. It was reassuring to know that the plan was foolproof also. The Bisect Plan, or By-Half Plan II for lack of a better name, was sure to succeed. Rather than the By-Half Plan I's approach to slowly and obviously slaughter the weaklings, the virus used for the Bisect Plan was proven far more effective. It was fast, yet subtle. Safe, yet promising. It was designed to eliminate inferiority whether the problem was temporary or permanent, mental or physical. Approximately half the Earth's population would be eliminated leaving a tremendous amount of space, food, water, and peace to go around. After all, there was no was no room for illness or weakness in the new, revolutionized world.

Faint smile still on his lips, Mr. Chu reached to the large, red button to the side of his desk. His fingers stroked it in the anticipation of pushing it. He pulled himself out of his reverie and pressed the button with slight excitement, not noticing his second-in-command's grimace.

He peeled his eyes of the beautiful, red button and shifted his sight to the large, specially-made, one-hundred inch Plasma television hanging on the beige wall. A large number was splayed across it and there was a satisfying _beep_ with each digit.

_30_

Thirty more seconds. Half a minute until the By-Half Plan II was initiated. How appropriate of a number. He imagined how every branch involved was seeing the same countdown simultaneously. He thought of the branches in Germany, France, England, Australia and countless other countries. He dreamed of the soon-to-be pandemic they were going to serve.

_20_

He pictured the pathetic mutants and people dissolving and the strongest overcoming. He relished in the fact that his name, among a few others, would be heavily praised, and he would be worshipped as the man who saved the world.

_10_

He fantasized the deaths of the annoying avian-hybrid freaks that Itex had said were now expired. Thanks to them.

_5_

One breath in.

_4_

One breath out.

_3_

_2_

_1_

_0_

The re-evolution era had begun.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Ah, see? I did update today! It's late, but it's still today! Sorry, my sister just decided to be a computer hog. Special thanks to lolip0p for being my first story alerter ever! Whoopdidoo. This chapter is longer than the last and is in Max's point-of-view. The rest of the story will probably be all in Max's point-of-view, and even if I do someone else's, it won't be in first person (like in the books). Here goes. A/N out!**

PART ONE

(ONE YEAR LATER)

_NO PARENTS, NO SCHOOL, NO RULES—MESSED UP VERSION_

**1**

THE FUNNY THING about facing imminent death is that it really snaps everything else into perspective. Take right now, for instance.

_Run! Come on, run! You know you can do it. _My brain and body snapped into overdrive, absolutely freaking out on me. My senses felt sharpened and as was my panic. There was no thought running through my head except for that encouragement and the fact that I had to put as much space between me and them as possible.

Yeah. _Them_: as in blood-thirsty half-wolf, half-human men—and now recently women. Insider's hip lingo for them is 'Erasers', FYI.

Back at the lab where five other people like me and I had grown up—home sweet home—, Erasers had been there all along to make sure that all the mutants had stayed neat and beat. More on the sweet childhood memories later. The Erasers were known to be the security, the police—and of course, the executioners. And they were coming after yours featherly. Yes, fierce and raging wolf men and women chasing after me was a legitimate concern in my life. Take the time now to count your blessings.

So, you see? _Voila. Everything _comes together. In that instant, _everything_ snaps into perspective.

My lungs were dying for a break and felt like someone had lit them on fire. My heart felt like a humming bird on speed. Not to mention my pumping legs were practically screaming for release. Meanwhile a part of me, however small it was, was forcing myself further, yelling right back at the various body parts to suck it up.

Sometimes it was times like these that I found it a miracle that someone hadn't dragged me to the funny farm yet.

_You're faster than them! Run! You can outrun anyone._ Optimism is just hopeful lies, but at the moment, the self-pep-talk was surprisingly quite helpful. Swiftness wasn't exactly the Erasers' thing, rather than, say, their super, macho strength. But I actually am faster than them. Even Angel could beat them in a race, and she's only seven—scratch that—eight.

I'm your average stereotypical cartoon vanishing with neat sound-effects and leaving behind a cloud of dust.

The adrenaline flashed like lightning through my veins and made it so much harder for me to focus on where the _h _I was.

Still running like Forrest Gump high on caffeine and sugar combined, I checked my surroundings. Huh. I was pretty sure I recognized this street—unless it was my goofy brain pulling tricks on me again. Swiftly, I made a sharp turn off the side walk and in between two buildings. _There. _In between the two complexes was a long alley with a door leading into one of the apartments. I remembered that the door was always kept unlocked. After all, there was no reason to lock it in the first place. I made one of my famous lickety-split decisions and ran full force towards the door. _When I get in, I can lock the door behind me, delaying the dogs, and run up the stairs to do an up and away._ _Foolproof and _brilliant _idea, Max, _I thought modestly to myself, and the audience in my head roared with applause.

I slammed into the door and didn't hesitate to turn the knob. Then, I realized the fool in my foolproof plan:_ moi_. _Houston, we have a problem_. The door was locked. Why in h-e-double-hockey-sticks was the door _locked_? Frantically, I rammed myself over and over into the darned thing with no success. That was going to leave a mark.

"Please, open. _Please_?" I urged the door. That was saying something, considering that I never beg. _Ever_. So it was quite odd that I was begging, let alone begging to an inanimate object. I'm nothing if not crazy.

Practically blowing steam out from my ears at the dumb door ignoring my pleas, I gave up and turned around to start sprinting again. I think my legs started crying when I did. Almost immediately, I made a painstaking stop when I heard a sweet and beautiful voice. A much _too_ sweet and beautiful voice.

I am your average, stereotypical cartoon skidding to a stop on my heels with screeching sound effects.

"I think the mutant's in here." Chills made their way along my spine and the hairs on the back of my neck rose. I froze, completely unable to move. _Do something, Max! Don't just stand there like an idiot!_

I saw a few dark haired, model-looking men slither into the alley. Erasers. The door impasse caused enough delay for them to catch up. They weren't as fast as I was, but that didn't mean they weren't fast. There were less of them than when I started running. I assumed they split up, increasing their chances of finding me. They probably thought that several of them could take me down. Mistake number one: never underestimate the enemy.

I am your average, stereotypical cartoon with the visible heart thudding out of my chest. Not out of infatuation though, if _that's_ what you were thinking, but more out of anticipation.

Quickly I counted them. _Six? Seven, maybe?_ With the element of surprise I could definitely bring them down using my wit, cunning, and fists. Their eyesight wasn't as enhanced as mine since I had raptor vision and all. The darkness of the moonless night also worked to my advantage since I could also see extremely well in the dark. _Okay, I can just stay _really_ still and then ambush 'em. Yeah. That'll work._ I mentally patted myself on the back, when I realized another issue. About the handful of Erasers? Yeah, that must've been one _big, fat hand. _Today was quite the day of plans gone wrong.

At least thirty more—both men and women—dark-haired, gorgeous, human-form Erasers strolled right on into the alley. And if I knew them well enough, which I do, I assure you, they probably had many more doggies up their furry sleeves. _Crap_. What an understatement.

And to make things even worse, at that very moment, one of them locked eyes on me. _Shoot!_ So much for the 'stay hidden' plan. Now that was down the drain too.

"Come on out, birdie. We won't hurt you…_that much_," the Eraser whispered, beckoning me with his index finger. He and his other partners-in-crime started chuckling at the statement, and I performed my signature scowl. Personally, I didn't think it was too funny. A bit too cliché for my liking.

Still chuckling, the Erasers began to morph, faces elongating into muzzles, fur erupting out of their skin, teeth sharpening into fangs, and their signature blood-lust increased in their now yellow eyes. The whole enchilada. I made a disgusted face at the scene.

_Fight or flight? Fight or flight? Flight? _In my case, the saying is, you know, _literal_. The ambivalence in my head floated away as I made my decision. Even though there was a good chance that I could beat them with the help of luck and good tactics, there was also a big chance that I could get pretty banged up in the process. Heaven _forbid_ I should make a clean getaway. If you didn't catch on, Flight won this debate.

Slowly, I started to step back, so as to not drag their attention onto me. Carefully, I glanced up at the sky, attempting to be subtle. 'Attempting' being the operative word used there. One Eraser had his eyes locked on me, calculating my every movement. The wolf snarled, probably guessing what I was about to do. Then, he—or she, I wasn't sure and wasn't going to check—pulled out something deadly: a gun. I already knew they were heavily armed, though. Erasers and weapons tended to be a package deal, unfortunately. That fact was why I had ran until then; buildings made nice shields. The lethal-looking object gave me a nudging reminder of exactly what I was up against. And the odds were not pretty, let me tell you.

I plastered a fearful and hopeless look on my face so that they could think that I wasn't planning to make a break for it. Little did they know.

It seemed they were falling for my routine. _I guess I'm a better actress than I thought,_ I awed, impressed with myself.

"That's right, little, wittle birdie. Come to the nice, big, bad wolf," Dog-Breath cooed in a now gruff voice. Inwardly, I rolled my eyes at the baby talk. It seemed wrong coming out of the grotesque thing's mouth. Like a baby with a potty mouth. Or a baby that can talk in the first place.

Slowly and dejectedly, I took a step towards them with the same defeated expression. Then, in the blink of an eye, I leaped up high, snapped out my fifteen and a half foot wings, and pushed them down hard to get lift. Yeah. Surprise, surprise. You heard me right. I have _wings_, just in case you were wondering why that sentence before didn't sound right. Take that in now.

Done? Good.

Once I was high enough, I poured on the super speed—another fun feature in the exclusive bird kid package—to get away from the Wolverine wannabes and their weaponry. Because, I don't know about you, but receiving a nice hole in _wherever_ didn't sound too fun. IMHO.

Once I was out of shooting range, I hovered and very maturely stuck my tongue out at them. "Not today, jerks!" I hollered down at them, even though my voice was lost in the howling wind.

_Pssshh!_

The audience in my head took a well-timed, huge intake of breath.

I muttered a long string of curses out of pain and agitation. The freaking mutts had actually _shot _me! No normal gun should have been able to shoot me from up here—which led me to believe that this was no ordinary gun. It was probably a bazooka with the amount of pain it caused. I bit my lip and looked at the damage on my right wing. A gaping hole and pool of blood was a bit too flashy for me to miss. Why was it that whenever I was shot, it was _always_ in one of my wings? Just a curious thought. You know what they say, 'curiosity killed the bird kid'. Literally.

At that moment, I realized that I was losing altitude and losing it freaking _fast_,_ man._ Desperately, I tried to flap my wings to no avail.

"Holy [insert your choice of swear word here]!" I was tumbling and spiraling like one of those copter toys and absolutely panicking. With good reason, of course. _Mayday, mayday_.

I am your average, stereotypical cartoon free falling with the failing-airplane-engine sound effect.

The audience in my head went silent.

About 30 seconds, I was guessing, until I reached my epic splat. Of course by living to defy the laws of gravity, I was only destined to die by following them. Karma and irony sure had a sick sense of humor. Lovely.

20 seconds. I could see the scumbags' horrible, skuzzy grins crystal clearly. I cursed the man who ever invented the gun. And Itex for creating these losers.

10 seconds. This was the longest and shortest thirty seconds of my entire life. I was grateful that I had time to accept my fate and silently say my good-byes to the world. I bid farewell to the Flock and prayed that Fang would take good care of them.

5 seconds. I am your average, stereotypical cartoon who's about to turn into a crinkled, unrecognizable heap on the ground. Except that I won't be back, good as new, in the next episode.

4 seconds. My last thought, oddly enough, was about the Erasers. I wondered if wherever I would end up would have them there too.

3 seconds. I sure hoped not.

2 seconds. One breath in.

1 second. One breath out.

_0_

My whole world turned black.

And then, I woke up.

**Not so quick A/N: Now, I don't like to ruin the mood by doing an author's note, but just a few more things. I accept flames, so long as it's constructive criticism, not just pointless criticism. Not like, "You stink!", but rather, "You stink because of…" Ha. Ha… Anyway. Ideas that won't majorly change my plot line? Opinions? Do you like/love? Dislike/hate? What do you like/dislike? Overall help with grammar or spelling (fragments are allowed, by the way, in novels. So that's what I'm doing.)? R&R! Just press the greenish button below… it's lonely.**

**PLEASE REVIEW! THANKS!**

**-Z**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Just so I don't leave you hanging, and since I have something VERY IMPORTANT TO ASK, I decided to update again. So, you're welcome (if anyone is actually reading this…anyone? Anybody? Bueller? Bueller?). HERE'S MY VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION: REMEMBER THE BULLIES FROM ****THE ANGEL EXPERIMENT**** WHO PICKED ON ELLA AND THEN SHOT MAX? WHAT'S THE NAME OF THE MAIN BULLY? Please, I know it seems random, but I **_**really **_**need to know. And I can't find out because I don't own the first book (tear, tear). The first person to tell me will get a virtual hug! And maybe something else… the person can request a wish, and I shall grant it like a magic genie. Just so long as the request is reasonable. 'Kay, then, PLEASE ANSWER THAT QUESTION! Now, on with the show! A/N out!**

**2**

MY FIRST THOUGHT as I awakened from my disturbing night's rest was something along the lines of, _What the _heck_ was that about?_ Actually, my first thought was, _Ow_ because when I rushed up from the dream, I smacked my head against the bottom of my bed… because I was on the ground, partially underneath my bed. Usually, I am very light sleeper due to my permanently screwed up sleeping patterns. So it was strange that I didn't wake up from rolling off the bed. Must've been some odd dream to distract me.

I groaned and gingerly touched my forehead. That epic smack on the head was most certainly not the most pleasant thing to wake up to. I prayed to whatever almighty force out there that it wouldn't bruise.

Then, amidst of all my whiny head trauma issues, the full memory of the dream hit me eighty miles an hour.

This had probably been about the umpteenth time that I had had this same dream—but this one was different. In some of the dreams, the apartment door wasn't locked. In others, the Erasers didn't shoot at me. And in a few, the Erasers had missed when they shot the gi-normous gun. Yet, every single dream had me escape and survive. But this time had—I can't believe I'm saying this—actually really, _really_ frightened me. I mean, come _on_, if you saw and kind of felt yourself die, you'd be a bit shaken too. It wasn't exactly the nicest wakeup call either. Yeah, '_Uh, hi, Max. Wake up. Your dream-self is dying.'_

Slowly, as to avoid another concussion, I wiggled out from under my bed and sat up right with my back against the bed frame. _Listen up, subconscious. Enough's enough. No more bad dreams. They aren't doing either of us too good._

I rubbed the sleep and crust out of my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose. Sleep was supposed to be the time I could relax, not gain wrinkles and gray hairs. But, _nooo_. Of course, I couldn't have it normally because this is _me _we're talking about.

In the back of my head, a felt an OCD-like pressing need to check for wounds. If you looked up the word _paranoid_ in the dictionary, you would more than likely find my picture there.

Slowly, I stretched out my wide wings, with all their pale-tan-with-white-streaks-and-some-freckly-looking-brown-spots glory. It felt really good to stretch them out after sleeping on them awkwardly. I looked at the left wing: no holiness, just wholeness. I looked at my right—the "shot" one—and once again saw _nada_. A glance to my pajama pants and loose t-shirt showed they were all in one piece, fortunately. I personally didn't want to have to go get more pajamas.

With my inner paranoia beast settled, I turned to the window. I guessed it was about four o'clock or so, according to the sky. In the morning. _My _favorite_ time to wake up. Oh, subconscious. How did you _know_? _I thought bitterly.

Then, I realized that I was essentially thinking mean things about _myself_. And I found that that was "slightly" insane of me.

If you look up the word _nuts_ in the dictionary, you'll probably see a picture of actual nuts, and then you'll find my picture there too.

I got up and walked to the window knowing there was no hope of me going back to sleep. _Yeah, _as if I could get any sleep after _that_. I opened the window and sucked in a deep breath of air. My feathers twitched and I could almost hear my wings chant, "Use me! Use me! Just don't abuse me!" I decided to take a little spin. So, I removed the window screen and jumped out.

After I landed on the soft earth, I checked my surroundings. I looked at my mom's isolated house I jumped out from and the woodsy area around it. It was abnormally warm for the early morning. That's an Arizona summer for ya. Then, I spread out my wings, sails of feathers, muscle, and bone, and got a running start.

One flap, two flaps, a bit of extra-speediness, and I was up in the clouds, neglecting all my worries.

**A/N: A short chapter, but I'll update soon so no worries. So please answer the question stated at the top in all caps, please! And please review! I like to know what you think! And it makes me **_**really **_**happy to see a review or story alert—or **_**whatever**_**—in my email inbox. **

**Hope to see you soon,**

**-Z**


	4. Chapter 3

** A/N: Hey, guys… I haven't gotten any reviews yet. Sigh. I really do want your opinions. I'm going to try to update when more people might see this in the archives. Also, this is also for myself, too because I really want to accomplish finishing this story. This chapter is an 'explanation' chapter. The plot will be introduced fully. No dialogue, but next chapter there'll be plenty. Alright, then, here's chapter numero tres. A/N out!**

**3**

FLYING: I ASSUME you've never been. Not without a machine, that is. There's absolutely nothing even close in comparison to it. There's the freeness factor, the thrill part, the tranquility. There's really no word you can use to describe it.

I smiled as a warm updraft lifted me up and tingled through my feathers. Ah, pure bliss. I let nature do the work for me and focused by raptor vision on the scenery below.

No cars. Not a single one. No pedestrians either. In fact, there was no mailman, no paper boy, no jogging mothers with the baby carriages, and no dog-walkers. Sure, it was early, but that wasn't the reason for the vacant feeling. At this point you're probably thinking or saying, "Spit it out already! Why isn't anyone there?"

Well. Allow me to explain.

If you've been keeping up with our various shenanigans, you probably know what's happened to us until about a year or so ago. If you haven't, well, you're in luck; I'm going to explain it all, right here, right now. For the up-to-date readers, feel free to skip a bit down.

Okay. So, let's start all over. Hi, I'm Max for short or Maximum Ride for long. Just call me Max. I'm fifteen, approximately. How do I not know for sure? Well, that's a great question, Sherlock!

If you haven't caught on by now, I have wings. And the ability to fly with those wings. So if you're thinking that I'm not a hundred percent human, then, right you are! I'm actually ninety-eight percent human, two percent avian. Avian equals bird, in case you didn't know. That two percent has had a great impact, let me tell you. And if you're wondering how I got that way, and you're assuming that a human and a birdie didn't love each other _that_ much, then, give yourself a big ol' pat on the back!

I was made and raised in a terrible lab (insider's hip lingo: the School) where the phrase, 'cruel and unusual punishment' would describe the situation perfectly. It was mad—as in crazy, not angry—scientists galore. There were five other kids like me who also grew up there. There's Fang, who's fifteen, like me, Iggy, who's also fifteen and blind, Nudge, a twelve-year-old, the Gasman, AKA Gazzy —don't ask—, who's nine, and Angel who's seven—I mean, eight.

By the time I was within the ten range, a not-so-mad scientist broke all six of us out of the School. Meet Jeb Batchelder. For two years, we lived with him in a totally awesome house. If you're wondering, "Why only two years?" then, gee whiz, you're smart! The thing was, after two years, Jeb vanished without a trace and the Flock (insider's hip lingo for the six of us) assumed he was dead. See Jeb disappear.

So, I did the same thing any other quirky, bossy, maternal, bird kid freak-of-nature would've done.

I took on the role of leader slash mother.

It could've been because I was the oldest. Or the most ruthless. Or it might've even been my "amazing" fashion sense. I don't really know. But I'd like to think that it was a combination of all three.

And then Angel was kidnapped. See: _Erasers_, book one.

Our lives just couldn't stay nice and simple. It wasn't just wasn't _us _somehow.

Oh, but _hakuna matata_; we got her back from the same lab/prison that we grew up in. See: _the School_.

For nine months, more or less, after that, we were on the run trying oh so desperately to escape the same antiseptic smell, needles, and painful experiments that we grew up with. Once again, see: _the School_. Within those several months, we got out of many tight spots and corners. Oh yeah. And we got ourselves a talking, high-jumping, mutant dog along the way from another lab in New York (see: _the Institute_, book one). Meet Total. See Total speak—literally.

Now all we needed was a house with a white picket fence to achieve the American dream.

Also during our goofy adventures, we found Jeb again. And he was on_ their _side. _That_ really put him on my list. However, he did tell me who my parents were. The announcement was very similar to Darth Vader's "Luke, _I am your father!"_ spiel. Yes, Jeb was my father. So you can imagine how ecstatic I was to hear the lovely news. Not at all. Zip, nada, goose eggs.

On the bright side, I did have a wonderful and caring woman for a mother. Meet Dr. Valencia Martinez. She had treated me when I had gotten shot during Angel's rescue mission. And the bullet was conveniently placed in my wing. Ironically enough, Dr. Martinez was a vet. How appropriate. See Dr. Martinez heal animals and mutant bird kids—and stuff.

Later, the Flock and I had gotten involved with the environment, thanks to my mom. After an intense visit to Ant-freaking-artica, she and a few others had made an organization, Coalition to Stop the Madness, that would advertise the 'go green' cause. So, all seven of us, including Total—who had grown wings, did a bunch of air shows for a while. And let me tell you, they were a hit. Not to mention the fact that we got paid in doughnuts.

Not everyone was so happy about us working for the CSM though. A man named Mr. Chu got his evil minions to shoot me from out of the sky—in my wing, _again_—to persuade me to stop my work at the CSM. Being the stubborn li'l' mutant I am, I obviously said no. And he let me go—roughly, might I add.

Anyway.

Long story short: Mom got kidnapped by Mr. Chu—shocker there—and I had to save her. And I did, by the way. Party hats and streamers and confetti, _oh my_! Whoopdidoo.

_Up-to-date readers, you may stop skipping now_. Okay. So everyone caught up with all the hullaballoo?

Good.

Now, back to the question of where everyone was. Curiosity is probably killing you at this very moment.

About a year ago is probably where you left off. A year ago, a strange and foreign virus started making special appearances. It started out small but seemed to be originating in a lot of big countries all at once. Big countries such as: the U.S., Germany, France, Australia, and Britain. Then the virus killed someone in California. Another in Europe, someone else in New York. Soon enough, the death toll skyrocketed. Health officials declared it a pandemic and named it the Universal Virus due to its very widespread condition. Scientists panicked and tried to find a cure but couldn't find one, especially since viruses are harder to treat than bacteria-caused diseases. The government stepped in and forbade the sick from traveling. But the thing about the Universal Virus was that one could have it and not even show signs of having it until weeks later. So, the virus continued to hop from country to country like an irritating flea infestation. Then, the governments of most countries just put a hold on country-to-country travel altogether. Only, by then, it was too late. The plague was completely world-wide and still killing millions. It was most certainly one lean, mean, killing machine.

Want to know another not-so-fun fact about the virus? It was a varying one.

"What do you mean by that, Max?" you might wonder. You see, somewhere along the way, the health officials realized a fascinating discovery: no more children were dying. Absolutely none. Even the young infants and the kids with weak immune systems weren't victims of the disease anymore. _That_ really baffled the scientists—well, what was left of them. So, that led them to do some trials, and their hypotheses ended up being correct: the virus had mutated. With more observations, they found that everyone dead or dying was approximately the age of sixteen or older. They were confounded by the precise age boundary and didn't understand why it was that way at all. I don't get it either. I mean, if the smarty scientists didn't get it, how can you expect a fifteen-year-old to?

Well, here's _one_ thing I got. A simple formula that doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out: no cure + fast and deadly virus = a fatality rate that shoots to the moon.

So, one by one, thousands by thousands, the adults died out. Every. Last. _One_. About a couple of months ago, the last adult died. That's where we stand, time-wise, in case you were wondering.

And sure, the Universal Virus got rid of all the horrible adults in the world and the mad scientists. _That_ part didn't seem all too bad. But then Jeb…I'm not too sure how I feel about that.

On the other hand, it also got all the good grown-ups, the _nice_ scientists, the hard workers, and the innocent.

Mom. It got my mom too.

But I really don't want to talk about it.

_But_, hey. No parents, no school, no rules. Awesome, right?

Wrong.

Although that might seem 'awesome' and all, it comes with tight strings attached. I mean, imagine this: no parents—you probably love them, even if it is deep down or deep, _deep_ down—, no siblings if they were sixteen or older, no idolized celebrities, no loved relatives if they died too—shall I go on?

And let's face it, a lot of you or other younglings can't fend for yourselves.

Let's analyze the situation fully, shall we?

Okay. Adults tended to do most of the work, what with the pesky child labor laws and all. Adults ran the electric factories, so that means no electricity. No electricity equals no T.V.—_heaven forbid!_—, no clocks, no computers, and no lights. So, for all of you scared-of-dark people, that would be some tough livin' for ya. No farms or food production factories either. So, that meant that you had to _steal_ non-perishables from stores because—get this—there weren't any grocery store employees either. Or you could have one lively dining of whatever you can catch from the wild. There were no clothing lines making the latest fashion statements, so you had to make do. And if you had a major growth spurt or something, you had to _steal_ clothes because—_get this_—there were no mall or store employees either.

Sound like fun anymore?

No, I didn't think so.

And that was bad and all, but like I said before, _so many good people died too_. Like my mom.

But like I said, I _really_ don't want to talk about it.

I snapped back into reality and realized two things: 1. I went _way _too far, and 2. Warm tears were threatening to spill over from my eyes. I guess the weensy trip down memory lane tickled some emotions. _Keep it together, man—uh, woman_, I thought to myself. I looked up and glared at the sky until the moment passed.

When I had a stare-down with the sky, I realized another thing. _You have _got _to be kidding me. It's six _already_? _I couldn't believe that I had been gone for _two hours_. But, then again, time flies when you're fly_ing_. Get it? Fly—oh, never mind.

Then, with a sigh, I turned my caboose around and headed back home.

**A/N: Okie dokie, I'll update as soon as I get some reviews. I already have 2 more chapters done and ready, with chapter 6 just needing one, last, final touch. I don't like to threaten… but that's not exactly threatening, now is it? I mean, it's common sense. Why update if I don't even know if anyone is reading? Please, please, please, PLEASE review. And while you're at it, answer this question, if you know the answer. **_**THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT: REMEMBER THE BULLIES THAT PICKED ON ELLA AND SHOT MAX IN **__**THE ANGEL EXPERIMENT**__**? WHAT'S THE NAME OF THE MAIN BULLY? **_**Please, guys, I have to know! 'Kay that's pretty much it! Please tell me what you think by clicking a little thing called a 'button'. It's down below and sort of a green tint.**

** YOU HEARD ME! REVIEW, PLEASE, AND ANSWER THAT QUESTION IF YOU CAN! THANKS!**

** -Z**


	5. Chapter 4

** A/N: WHOA, GUYS! I'm updating again (no duh) because I got some nice responses within the past… few minutes *smiles sheepishly*. I dunno, is it wise to update this fast if I want to get a good amount of reviews and alerts and **_**whatever**_**? Meh, I don't care! You guys made me happy!**

**Special thanks****:**

**-****Lolip0p****, I've already thanked you, but you were still my first story alert (and on my first chapter too!) so I'm thanking you again…thanks!**

**-****The Capslock Savior****, thanks for both putting my story on your favorites list and your story alert subscription! I really appreciate it!**

**-****whitewolf207****: Thank you for your very nice review! I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I hope that you stay tuned for more of this story!**

**-To ****BlackAthena****: wow, thanks for putting me on both your favorite authors list, your author alert subscription, your favorite stories list, your story alert subscription, AND reviewing too! Whoa. Mind. Blown. And in response to your review (UPDATE!), guess what? I'm updating! "No way, José!" "Why, yes, it's true!"**

** This chapter has the Fangalator in it! So expect Faxness, but not **_**too**_** unrealistically extreme. Let me know how I do by… oh I dunno… REVIEWING? Sorry for the long A/N. Now, without further ado, heeeeerrrreee's… chapter 4! A/N out!**

**4**

FEELING LIKE THE Concorde the whole way, I sped back to the house in no time, trying to make it back before anyone woke up. I spiraled my way down to the roof. When I landed, it seemed like no one else was awake yet. And then a dark figure appeared right next to me.

"_Geez_, Fang. One of these days, you're going to give me a heart attack." It was nothing new, this whole disappear-when-still thing, but every time he showed up again, it always surprised me.

One side of his mouth quirked, and he held out a glass of water. I hadn't even realized I was thirsty until I snatched it from him and chugged it all down. Did he know me well or _did he know me well_?

"You're welcome?" he asked. Yeah, about ninety-something percent of the time, Fang only used two modes: silent or sarcastic. That's him in a nut-shell: Mr. Rock. Or Mr. Sarcasm.

I gave a combination smile-scowl at him and then replied, "For your information, Fang, I live here, last time I checked. I'm _always_ welcome." I only had two modes as well: Smart-Alec or hostile. That's me in a nutshell: Mrs. Sarcasm—I mean Ms.!—no, it's just—

You know what? Just completely forget about that last sentence. Capiche?

He grinned, and it felt like the sun had come out. "Touché. So how's Botswana?"

I gave a toothy smile back since his was so contagious. I realized that we had a nearly identical conversation back in Virginia, and I grinned even wider. "Good, good. They say hi."

We sat down on the edge of the roof at the same time, and Fang wrapped a wiry arm around me. In case you didn't catch on, Fang and I are sort of, but not exactly, an item. We hadn't exactly named our relationship status, but didn't feel the need to either. All that mattered was that we were together after taking much too long to do so. Just, simply, together. And that probably doesn't make much sense. But it doesn't have to. Cliché, I know.

I looked out at the sunrise that was peeking out of the trees. It really was breathtaking.

"_Wow_, it's beautiful," I muttered, drawn in by the amazing sight.

"Not as much as you, honeybunch." he replied jokingly.

"Aw, Fang. Is my rock going all soft on me?" We both chuckled at that. Aren't we just one goofy, mutant couple?

I leaned into him, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. I bunched my hand into fists and rubbed my eyes with them.

The nice thing about Fang was that he was more than just—_whatever_ he was, relationship-wise. He was my right-wing man, my rock, _and_ my best friend. So I totally felt comfortable with confiding in him about pretty much anything and everything. Just as I was about to say something that was on my mind, I broke out in to a _huge_ yawn.

"Tired?" He asked—wait for it—sarcastically. But I could read him like a book. And vice-versa, might I add. So I could see the mild concern as his intense, obsidian eyes scanned my brown ones.

"Yeah, actually. I had one _heck _of a weird dream."

I knew he knew that I meant _disturbing_ when I said _weird_, so I don't know why I didn't just flat out say it. I guess it was just to save what was left of dignity.

"Ah. Did someone have a scary nightmare?" he mock-cooed. Dignity: _gone_. Appalled, my jaw dropped, and I gaped at him. Then, I recovered and glared at him, lunging to smack him upside the head. Laughing, he dodged it to the side—which just agitated me more.

"Funny enough," he began. He grabbed my hand and made soothing circles with his thumb to try to calm me down. It worked. I melted into a puddle. A Max-sized puddle. "I had a '_weird_' dream too."

I decided to be blunt and just get it out. "Huh. Yeah, uh, I died in mine. It, uh—it really freaked me out." I most certainly had the gift of gab, as you can clearly see.

"Hm." His eyebrows furrowed and a vacant look came across his eyes. Deep in thought. He wasn't telling me something, but, deciding to be nice, I let it go. If and when he was ready to tell me, he would.

I decided to bring up something that I need to get off my chest. "So, I've been thinking…" I began.

"A first," he interjected. I rolled my eyes and mussed up his jet-black hair. That got him to shut his mouth. He'd been getting too chatty for his own good.

"So, I've been thinking…" I began once more and paused. I threw him an _I-dare-you-to-interrupt-me-again_ look, and when he didn't, I continued. "Remember a while back, when we still had electricity, I did some research on our computer?"

After the first wave of the Universal Virus but before the final stretch of it, I became one curious bird kid. I researched a bit about the virus—_thank you, Google _and _Nudge's hacking skills—_and found something that was the same with every case I saw. Before the virus mutated, all of the casualties had some kind of ailment or disability, whether it was a mental disability, cancer, an illness, or overall weakness. I sympathized with that one guy out there who had the sniffles.

"Yeah…" Fang replied warily.

"And remember how the first cases of the virus were in California and New York? And then in countries like England, France, Germany, and Australia?" California was where the School was. And New York had the Institute. England, France, Germany, and Australia had countless of other main Itex branches—do you see where I am going with this?

Comprehension dawned in the dark abyss of his eyes. Aren't I poetic? "You don't think…"

"Oh, that's _exactly_ what I think."

"Okay. Let me get this straight. So you're thinking that Itex went off along with their insane _reduce-the-world-by-half_ plan? Only this time by using a virus?"

_ "_Smart boy_."_

He continued, now on a roll. "And they really screwed up, too. Because the virus changed its form?" That was one of the longest rants I had ever heard Fang say. Nudge would've been so proud.

"That's my theory. Which leads me to something else that's been bothering me." I frowned. "Does that make me a failure?"

He shook his head and opened his mouth to speak. "They did this to themselves, as far as I'm concerned. I mean, we weren't the ones who let out the virus. And it's not like you're smart enough to find a cure."

I gave my signature smile-scowl again. But deep down, I was glad that he said that.

Way back when, Jeb, after he had gone to _their_ side, had told me something absolutely mind-blowing. I was supposed to save the world. When and from what, he never told me. If that was true, did that mean that I missed my chance to rescue the world? Had I failed?

Then again, Jeb could've just been pulling my genetically enhanced leg, but I started believing him when odd things started happening. It'll probably take me too long to explain all the 'odd' things. I mean, the books are out there, the least you could do is read them.

_Hello, again, Max._ Ah, odd thing number one. That wasn't me, by the way. It was the Voice. One besides my own that is. You can get your very own from Best Mart.

It's times like these when I felt truly schizophrenic.

_Well, well, well. Long time no hear, eh, Voice?_ Sadly, the death of all of the adults didn't bring the absence of the Voice. So, I was guessing that it was a machine. Or a kid, even.

_Max, you're not a failure. In fact, your time has just begun._

_ Oh, is that so? Care to elaborate? _I was annoyed with the vagueness that the Voice always brought.

_It's not too late for the planet. Save the world, Max._

_Huh. Déjà moo: the feeling that I've heard this bull before._ If only I had a nickel every time I heard that. _Honestly, Voice, there's not much world left to save._

I thought I almost heard it sigh. _Like I said, Max, this is only the beginning._ _Follow your heart, and you'll find the way._

_Yes, thanks for that, Confucius._ The Voice tended to use fortune-cookie format _way_ too often.

The Voice went silent. Thank _God_.

I realized that Fang had been waiting patiently this whole time. "Three guesses to who that was." I said.

He put on a fake thinking expression and then said, "The Voice?"

"Bingo. And what do you think it said?" I asked deceptively mildly.

"Hmmm, 'save the world'?"

"You know it." The Voice should learn to change the lecture up a bit. "Before it so _rudely_ interrupted, we were talking about the virus, right?" He nodded. "Well that leads me to yet _something else_ that's been bothering me." I wasn't sure how to talk about this. So I just did. "What if the virus is still in us? Just waiting to go into effect when we turn sixteen or so?" _What _a conversation starter.

Fang was silent for bit, and then he nodded. "Actually, I've been wondering about the same thing. Kind of changes the meaning of 'happy birthday', don't you think?"

I laughed. Fang really knew how to make light of grim situations. "Yeah. 'Not-so-happy death-day', more like. _Lovely_." My laughter faded and transitioned to a frown. What if these next few months were my last? I would've lived one short, ugly life. "Fang?"

"Mm?" He said absentmindedly while focusing in on our intertwined hands. I felt his calluses and scars. His strength.

"If I—you know—_die_ soon, take care of the kids, will you?" To lighten that dark statement I added, "Oh, yeah. And work on finding a cure, if you can."

He looked down at me expressionlessly and said, "Always, Max. But you'll be okay."

I almost snorted in disbelief. _Almost_. "How do _you_ know?"

"Because I know everything, as I keep reminding you."

With that, he made me feel a whole lot better. I smiled when I remembered another similar conversation from back at Anne's. Ten words were all it took for him to reassure me, make me smile, and just make me feel better overall. That's my man.

I gave him a peck on the lips, but he extended the kiss. _Darn, he's got me_. My brain felt like a deflated balloon, and all my thoughts shorted out. He tilted his head, and I knotted my fingers through his soft hair. _Oh, God. Kissing_. It had been quite a while since our first 'hot and heavy' session, but even then, it still felt like the first time. Did I mention the effect he had on my poor, poor mind? I believe I did. It's really quite sad.

Then, a few synapses connected in my head, and I realized that everyone back inside the house had probably woken up. Regrettably, I ended the kiss and whispered, "We should probably go back inside now."

"Yeah." He agreed.

With a dopey smile still on my face, Fang and I jumped off the roof and opened the door. Was I one crazy, lovesick bird kid or _what_?

**A/N: So… what did you think? Did I overdo it? Under do it? Questions? Comments? Opinions? Ideas? Constructive criticism? Review, then! And PLEASE, if you know the answer to this question, please answer. It's VERY IMPORTANT. **_**QUESTION: REMEMBER THE BULLIES WHO PICKED ON ELLA AND SHOT MAX FROM **__**THE ANGEL EXPERIMENT**__**? WHAT'S THE NAME OF THE MAIN BULLY?**_** Please answer if you know or can find out. I don't have the book, unfortunately. Thanks! Oh, and I'll probably update tomorrow… maybe.**

** Once again, if you didn't get the main point from that rant de confusion, well then REVIEW, PLEASE and ANSWER THE QUESTION, IF YOU CAN!**

** REVIEW (please?)!!!**

** -Z**


	6. Chapter 5

** A/N: Hey, guys! I'm in an 'updating' mood, and since I already had this written up, I figured, "What the hey? I'll update!" So I am. Obviously. Special thanks once again:**

**-****TwilightGazer13****, thanks for putting my story on your favorite stories list! That makes me feel good!**

**-****BlackAthena****, I am really starting to love you. Ha-ha, not in a weird way, though. I just love reviewers! Thanks for taking the time to review again!**

** 'Kay, so that's purrty much it. Hope you enjoy this chapter. You'll get to meet all the main characters in this one! And back to the countdown… A/N out!**

**5**

AS WE BOTH stepped in through the foyer, the wonderful aroma hit me like a major slap in the face. A majorly _wonderful_ slap in the face.

"Mm, Iggy, what's cooking?" No pun intended. I looked over to see his strawberry-blond head bent over the burning fireplace. "Why was the blind one cooking?" you may ask. Because he's the only one who can cook his way out of a paper bag, is why.

"Breakfast. Last of our eggs actually, we're going to have to get some more. _Again_." We had really fast metabolisms, so we had the 'slight' tendency to eat a lot. He turned around and his glazed over icy-blue eyes focused on my left eyebrow. Pretty darn close, if you ask me. And then, I saw what he was wearing. I burst out chuckling and Fang smirked.

"Iggy, have you been following Nudge's latest trends again?" I fake-scolded him.

"Oh, this?" his pale hand gestured to the pink, lacy apron embroidered with 'kiss the cook'. "It's the latest, new fashion. All the bird kid cooks of America are wearing it." He carried a plate of eggs into the kitchen and placed it on the counter. Fang and I followed him, and the smell of the food taunted me. Any time now, my stomach would rise on its hind legs and beg like a dog. Iggy continued. "Although, I must say, I don't think pink's really my color." We all had powers, and Iggy's ability to feel colors was one of them.

I could fly like superwoman whenever I was flying—now over three-hundred miles per hour, breathe underwater—through my mouth _and_ nose, and had the agitating, but sometimes helpful, Voice. Whoopdi—_freaking_—doo.

If you didn't notice, Fang can disappear. Lately, he'd been able to either turn invisible by staying really still _or_ by thought. More than once, he'd pranked us with that evil power. He can also breathe underwater through his nose and mouth, like me.

Iggy may be blind, but his hearing most definitely compensates for that. A fly couldn't come within a one-mile radius without him knowing it. Not to mention the fact that he could recognize all of us by the sound of our footsteps or the feel of our skin or feathers. Nowadays, he'd been able to see objects if they were white enough—not just all-white environments. And he could also feel words now. So, basically, reading was made easy peasy for him.

Nudge most certainly had a way with technology. She could feel vibes from the past, which made her one invincible hacker. She could also attract metal towards her but, conveniently, only when she wanted to. She now could get vibes from the future—which _really_ freaked me out the first time, and was also practicing attracting heavier metal items.

Gazzy could mimic like no other. It got had gotten Fang and Iggy into nearly throwing blows at each other countless of times in the past. It was a powerful gift, and he wielded it happily and evilly. Oh yeah. One more thing: he wasn't named the _Gas_man for nothing. And now he could pollute _freaking _large areas with that stench. Don't ask how I know. Sadly, I have experienced the obscenity. On more than one occasion.

Angel, blood-sibling of Gazzy and my little baby, had really gotten quite the power plethora. She could mind-read, project her thoughts into people's minds, mind-control, breathe underwater, communicate with fish, and change her appearance. Within the past year, we found that she could read thoughts from a long time after they were thought, project images and sometimes _other _people's thoughts, mind control seamlessly—without the person seeming confused—, breath underwater through her nose and mouth, talk to fish from a farther distance, and change her appearance in just about any we've tried. She was one _heck _of a gifted seven-year-old.

_Eight._

_ Eight_-year-old. _Sorry, Ange. I just cannot get that in my head for the life of me._

_ It's okay, Max._

A year ago, it seemed that the six of us kept on receiving powers nonstop, but lately, our powers were enhancing but not gaining. Win some, lose some, I guess. But I really wanted to know why that was. Was it because the virus affected us? Was it our expiration dates kicking in? Was this just how any powers we were meant to have? Had the opportunity to get another power just not arrived? _So_ many questions_…_

I scanned the room. Gazzy and Angel were sitting next to the island, Angel yelling at Gazzy to stop imitating her and Gazzy imitating her yelling at him. _Like true siblings_, I thought to myself. I pursed my lips when I noticed that Gazzy's pants were getting a bit too short for him. So much for avoiding stealing. Gazzy and Angel: check.

"Good morning, my sleeping beauty" I saw a small, black, Scottie-looking dog trot over to Akila, a snow-white Malamute. He reached down and licked her paw and I could've sworn she smiled. Total and Akila: check. Akila had been a rescue-dog on a research vessel,—AKA: two-cent boat— the _Wendy K._ a bit over a year ago. Long story short: Total and Akila had gotten married. Don't ask how. They just—_did_. I sort of, kind of, somewhat found it cute, though. Sort of.

At that moment, a brown-eyed brunette trolled into the kitchen. Well. Actually, more like sleep-walked. Ella: check.

Ella and I shared the same mother. I had met Ella when I had gotten shot a while ago, and since then, we had gotten really close and sisterly. However, she had a lot of Mom's features and I had a lot of Jeb's. And oh, yeah—she was all-human.

I can only imagine what it was like for her when Mom died. I had only known my mom for a short amount of my life, but Ella had known her for her _whole life_. Thankfully, she had pretty much fully recovered. And so had the rest of us.

"Morning, El."

She replied back a good morning—I think. It was actually too slurred to understand. If you didn't catch on, Ella's not exactly the more 'early bird' type like the rest of us are. Get it?—early bird, and we're bird—oh, forget it.

Nearly stepping on Total, Ella attempted to make her way towards me. Attempted. She started to drift off towards the stoves, and Iggy redirected her with a light push on her shoulder.

"Thanks, Iggy," she mumbled incoherently. And then, I was pretty sure I saw a light shade of pink creep up his cheeks. _Whoa, is Iggy…_blushing_? _I decided to drop it to save him further embarrassment. For now. _Note to self: talk to Ig about his link with pink_. Iggy: check.

Ella finally reached me and stifled a yawn. "Curse insomniac nights. I'm so _tired_."

I looked curiously at the bags under her eyes and her overall corpse-like appearance. And then I looked at her from her haystack of hair to her bunny-slipper-covered toes. "More like _dead_," I commented.

"Yeah, a lot of that seems to be going around." Fang said. Fang: check—of course.

Huh. Everyone was there. Even Magnolia, the Martinezes' old dog, was there, snoozing under the table. Everyone was present—except for one particular winged bigmouth.

"Hey, guys? Anyone know where Nudge is?" I asked, even though I was pretty sure of the answer.

"She's still asleep, I think," Angel absentmindedly replied while smoothing out the mangy fur of her stuffed bear, Celeste.

Bull's-eye. _Of course_ she was. Nudge was a light sleeper like the rest of us Avian-American folks, but she could potentially sleep in until lunch if she wanted to. That is, if no one woke her up.

At the very same time, Fang and I looked at each other and each pulled out a flat hand and a fist. We pounded our fists on our hands three times, and then I shaped my fist into paper at the same time he shaped his into scissors.

"I win," he said unnecessarily.

"Yes, thanks for that, Captain Obvious. Best two out of three?"

"I don't think so."

"Fine," I grumbled and then stormed out of the room oh so maturely.

I went through the hall and then opened the door to a very colorful room. Aha, there she was. Still in bed. No surprise there. I could just barely spot her wild, brownish-caramel-colored mane of hair from underneath the blanket.

"Hey, Nudgie, do me a favor and get up." I said in an exaggeratedly sweet tone. I bet she could probably already hear me. She just was being too stubborn to actually _move_.

She opened an eye and looked at me. "I'm still asleep." And then she closed her eye and faked a few snores. _Well, she must have some _nerve. Okay. She was asking for it.

I walked up to the window and opened the curtains, letting in the painfully bright sunlight. She groaned and shut her eyes tighter. _Alrighty, then. Commence phase two._

My patience running thin, I walked up to her bed, yanked the sheets off of her, and grabbed her arms and pulled her off the bed—forcefully. Then, I made her stand on her feet.

"Congratulations. I didn't have to resort to phase three today. Now, move out." I said and pointed to the door.

Unhappily, she marched down the hall. I had taught her so well. For now, her chattiness was at a minimum, but I would give it a few minutes until it was her mouth went off like a noisy, annoying bird—appropriately enough.

When we reached the kitchen, Iggy had already finished making the food, and Fang and Gazzy had just finished setting the table.

We ate our limited but delicious eggs with mindless chitchat.

"Pass the salt, please, Gaz." Ella said. Meanwhile, Nudge was off ranting about how we were in desperate need of more food and clothes. _I concur with that assessment_.

Iggy's voice, a bit less care-free than usual, pierced through the chatter. "Shhh. Do you guys hear that?" We all quieted down. I cocked my head the left and heard the noise. It was, sadly, too familiar, especially since I had heard the same sound from my dream the night before. "It almost sounds like—"

"Guns." I grimly said. Because, _of course_, our lives just couldn't stay simple. "Everyone move away from the windows. _Now_."

No. Of course not.

**A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger. It's just that it felt right. This is where the story really starts to brew. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! **

** IMPORTANT: Now, **_**by the way**_**, I still need my question answered****. It's okay if you don't know (I can't blame you; I don't know it myself.), **_**but**_** (and that's one big butt) I really do need to know. It's **_**urgent **_**now. I **_**have**_** to know or I can't update the next chapter (not because I feel like being a jerk, but because I need it for the next chapter). For those of you who need a bit of memory-refreshing, the question is: **_**REMEMBER THE BULLIES WHO PICKED ON ELLA AND SHOT MAX FROM **__**THE ANGEL EXPERIMENT**__**? WHAT'S THE NAME OF THE MAIN BULLY?**_** If you don't know, hakuna matata, but if you do, PLEASE TELL ME! If no one tells me, I'll still update eventually, but it'll take me a while because I'll have to get a hold of ****The Angel Experiment****. Ugh, if only I had bought it before. Oh, and one more thing. I'm going to ask for a minimum of 5 REVIEWS before I update. Is that too much to ask? I just want to see if I can get that many. Or maybe I can get even more…or maybe not. I'll still update eventually, but I'll update ASAP if I get 5 reviews (but not w/o an answer to my question!). Sorry. I would update if I could, I just NEED that question answered. And I figured, while I'm at it, I might as well threaten my readers with 5 reviews. Ha…ha…**

** Anyway.**

** Okay, wow this is getting long. Just remember these two main things: PLEASE ANSWER MY QUESTION FROM ABOVE, IF YOU KNOW THE ANSWER (I CAN'T UPDATE WITHOUT IT) and CAN I GET 5 REVIEWS BEFORE I UPDATE (I'LL UDPATE ASAP IF I GET THEM)?**

** Alrighty, then. Thanks for reading! Review, please, I like to know how I'm doing with this.**

** -Z**


	7. Chapter 6

** A/N: LIKE, FREAKING WHOA, GUYS. Thanks for all the wonderful responses! I mean, I asked for 5 reviews, and I got 8! Niiice. Special thanks:**

**-****ivyflightislistening****: Thanks for putting my story on your favorite stories list! And for reviewing for THREE chapters! For me, if a story already has a few chapters, I tend to only review for the latest one. But you didn't! And I like that. And thanks for actually ANSWERING ME! Yay! It was very helpful.**

**-****DiamondSunshine****: Thank you for adding my story to your story subscriptions and for putting it on your favorite stories list! And for reviewing. I loved your review. It was very kind =).**

**-****emotionalpoemgirl****: Thanks for putting me on your author alerts and favorite authors list! And as to your review (cool story.), you can probably guess what I'm gonna say. If not, I'm saying thank you very much!**

**-****The Capslock Savior****: Thank you for reviewing! I heart reviews!**

**-****BlackAthena****: Haha, nice review! I love long reviews, so don't worry. Plus, I'm guilty of that crime myself ;). And thank you for answering my question in another review!**

** Aye caramba! I've never said so many 'thank you's in my entire life. And now I'm overloading the gratitude into one, single story. But you guys deserve it! I love your reviews, alerts, and subscriptions, so keep 'em coming!**

** Okay, so it appears that there are two bullies: José and Dwayne. I'm not sure about their last names or who's the pig-headed head honcho. So, I did some deductive reasoning…eenie meenie mynie mo, actually. But I digress… One bully will be seen and the other will be mentioned a little later. As for which one will be which, I refuse to spoil ;).**

** Oh! One last thing! I know this is a long A/N, **_**but **_**this is the last chapter that I already have written up. So that means that updates may be slower. I'll try to type a lot of chapters in advance today though. Hopefully, I'll update every day or every other day. M'kay?**

** Now, on with the story. You guys are probably dying of suspense. A/N out!**

**6**

DESPERATE TIMES CALL for desperate measures. Keeping that in mind, here's a basic recipe for disaster: add frantic kids in need for all sorts of items in order to survive, take away said valuable items, throw in a bit of temptation to steal the said valuable items, sprinkle in a few guns that are easy to get a hold of, a pinch of immorality, stir, and bon appétit.

Like I said, it's a recipe for disaster.

Now that adults weren't there to do all their 'adult-ing', guns and other such deadly weapons were much easier to snag. So, when kids ran out of food, water, clothing, a roof over their head—the little luxuries of life—, some would resort to weapons in order to force other children to give them the things they needed. It was understandable, but still terrible nevertheless.

So all these reasons and more were why six mutants, three dogs, and a human were cowering in a windowless basement.

If you haven't realized that by saying the previous sentence, I mean _us_, then, well, I guess you're not exactly the sharpest pencil of the bunch. No offense.

We, the Flock and I that is, hated to duck and cover when people were out there getting hurt. Well. Actually, more like just me. The rest of them were smart enough to know when it was best to not save others to avoid getting yourself hurt in the process. That system was somewhat lacking in me. I tend to root for the underdog and go all Superwoman—if you haven't noticed.

I was incredibly twitchy. If there was one thing that I hated more than not being able to rescue others in danger, it was tight, enclosed spaces. The room wasn't small per se, but it was _absolutely windowless_, as I mentioned before. Hence the twitchiness. Though, I was thankful that we at least had a basement, since most houses in Arizona didn't. All of the floors above us had too many windows, which was bad in a situation like this. Which leads me back to the basement.

Gazzy was singing "Trapped in the Drive-Thru" by Weird Al Yankovic, but changed the words to "Trapped in the Basement". He uncannily copied it, and it sounded like the song was actually being played, as per usual. It was a funny interpretation of the song—the first fifty times he'd sang it. I mean, we were already well aware that we were trapped in the basement. We didn't need an irritating song to remind us. So, now, I was just about ready to strangle his skinny, little bird kid neck.

A good leader probably shouldn't think that. Then again, I'm not your average leader, now am I?

Angel was sitting next to him and seemed oddly removed from the situation. Total was rambling away about how he had a craving for a croissant while Angel absently petted Akila's soft fur and scratched Magnolia behind the ears.

Iggy was oddly silent because he was focusing on calculating the distance of the shots. And Nudge was a bit quieter than usual as well, with the exception of picking on Iggy for updates.

I glanced at the couch next to the one I was sitting on. Ella had fallen asleep, like a sleep-deprived baby. An oversized, sleep-deprived baby, more like. I made a mental note to talk to her about what was bugging her so she could relax and catch more Z's.

_Where's Fang? _I thought, panicked. Probably after seeing me freak out, he shook his head and appeared right next to me on the couch. My heart skipped a beat in my chest since I hadn't realized he was there. I bet I would never live to see the day when I wouldn't panic after Fang disappears and get a fright when he shows up again.

I gave him my best _you-better-quit-doing-that-or-else-you'll-never-be-seen-again_ look, but he just shrugged and slung an arm around my shoulders. I don't think he got the message, but it didn't quite matter to me then.

Touching moment, right? Too bad the Gasman singing about a messed up basement didn't save it.

"Gazzy. _Shut_. _Up_." Thankfully, Iggy took the words straight out of my mouth before I had to go all The Jerry Springer Show on the Gasman.

A good leader probably shouldn't think that. Then again, I'm not your average leader, now am I?

"_Thank you_, Iggy," I said exasperatedly.

"Thank you, thank you very much," he said in an Elvis Presley voice, and I smiled.

The Gasman didn't seem faltered and just shrugged, smiling and then found a very interesting wall to stare at.

Sighing, I rubbed my temples. This could only happen to us. Only us. I felt ready to snap at the next person to talk to me because of three reasons: 1. we were all stuck in a _windowless_ basement, 2. the fact that Weird Al had ever been born, and 3. we had been in the room for who knows how long.

"Hey, do you hear that?" Iggy announced to the whole room. "Or rather, not hear that?"

"Oh my gosh. The gunshots stopped! Hallelujah and thank God—if there is one. Hey, can I go back and eat more breakfast? I barely got to eat anything so I'm still starved that I think I can become a cannibal and eat someone. Maybe even me." Two guesses to who that was. If you guessed that the Nudge Channel had finally turned on full blast, then _bingo_.

"Yeah, sure, Nudge. Iggy, are you absolutely sure that they stopped?" I said in my leader tone.

Iggy glanced pretty accurately at me and gave me an insulted look. All of us knew that the day that Iggy wasn't sure about what he heard would be the day pigs fly. Although, that wouldn't be too unlikely if the School got a hold of a few poor pigs…

"Okay, I'll take that as a yes. Let's go, _muchachos_."

I stood up from my seat and saw everyone spring out of their spots. I put my foot on the first step. Nudge, Gazzy and Angel tensed to make a break for it. Then, a loud knock sounded on the door, and this time, we didn't need Iggy to bring our attention to it.

We all groaned in unison, Nudge and Angel being the loudest, and Gazzy exclaimed, "You have _got_ to be _kidding_ me!"

My eyes shifted nervously around the room. "I'll see who it is guys," I announced. I wondered who it could be. It wasn't like a friendly Girl Scout wanted to sell us Samoas. And our house was pretty isolated in the woods.

"You sure?" Fang asked. Then he read my expression. "Yeah, you're sure." He gave me a meaningful look that said _be careful_. I nodded my head and made my way up the stairs.

A few more raps echoed through the house. Then, I heard more urgent and constant knocking. Whoever the rude person was needed to read _Patience for Dummies_. When I reached the door, I was silently grateful for the fact that the door was all wood. I stole a glance through the peephole and saw someone. Once I checked for any weapons and found none, I hesitantly opened the door.

The first thing I noticed when I looked outside was that the previously beautiful weather had completely vanished. It was raining cats and dogs. And bullets, might I add. Then I noticed a familiar boy about Ella's age. His teeth were clamped together, and it seemed that if he even opened his mouth the slightest, he would cuss like a trucker.

"Uh, you knocked?" I quirked an eyebrow and guessed that the guy had some serious issues.

"Blood," he faintly said, and that was when he started to collapse.

"Whoa!" I grabbed him and tried to steady him. I held on to him so he wouldn't fall again. Then, I saw a flash of scarlet on his arm. My eyes widened as I saw the blood pooling. Yeah, about what I said before, 'this guy must have some serious issues'? He had more issues than a magazine rack. A bleeding bullet wound being one of the said issues. "Guys! Come up here!"

I heard some shuffling of feet and then Fang and Iggy appeared in the foyer.

Fang gave me a _dude, WTH?_ face and then helped me support the bleeding stranger.

"What is it, Max?" Iggy asked.

Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel rushed in and let in a few gasps of surprise. Voices flowed around and about.

"Oh, my gosh, what's wrong with him? Who is this guy?" Nudge asked and her eyebrows knit together.

I saw the old Magnolia lazily trot in and plop in a corner. Akila proudly walked in and then almost seemed a bit taken aback at the scene. Total, with his shorter legs, finally reached us and muttered, "I leave you guys alone for a few mere minutes and _this _is what happens?" As if _he_ was the leader. Odd thought.

"Is he going to be okay, Max?" Angel questioned in a concerned tone.

"What happened?" Iggy asked more urgently.

"Whoa," Gazzy said, simply enough.

"I concur with that assessment," Fang replied, voice still steady as ever.

"What. Happened?" Iggy said through gritted teeth.

Ella finally sleepily came in and suddenly revived when she saw the kid in our arms. Her eyes widened with recognition and she stated, "I know him."

"What?" I asked.

"I know him," she repeated. "In fact, you know him, too. José."

"Why does that name ring a bell?" I wondered. _Wait a second_… he was one of the bullies I had saved Ella from however many years ago. One the same pesky bully who shot me. No way, José—appropriately enough. I was amazed at the circle that destiny made, and I chuckled nervously in incredulousness. Then I shut myself up because of the looks that everyone else was giving me. I heard a murmur about "Max going nuts" from the Gasman and saw Angel nod her head at him slowly.

"What the _heck happened_?" Iggy exploded. In the time of confusion, I had forgotten how much he hated to be the last one to know things due to his blindness.

"The guy who was at the door was one of the guys who shot me when I saved Ella almost two years ago," I began and looked over at Iggy and saw him raise him eyebrows. "He got shot in the arm, like I did when I got shot. Oh, the _irony_." I'm usually not one for karma, but at this point the audience in my head was giving it one big, fat round of applause.

I turned my attention back to the not-so-interactive bully in my arms. What to do, what to do.

"So…" Fang's voice pierced through the intense silence. "What are we going to do with the heap of unconsciousness?" he asked, voicing my exact thoughts.

I thought for a moment and turned to Ella. "Hey, El, do you know if we still have Mom's basic medical kit?"

"Yeah."

"Good, then, we'll take advantage of the fact that he is 'K.O.'ed and get that bullet out of him. After a bit, he'll wake up, and I think that he'll find that he'll be a bit _pressured_ to answer our questions…"

A good leader probably shouldn't say that. Then again, I'm not your average leader, now am I?

**A/N: Okay, so that was a slight cliffhanger… but I couldn't resist. Hmm, since you gave me 8 reviews last time when I asked for 5, can I ask for 10 this time? If I don't get 10, then that's okay, I'll still update when I can, but I'll update faster if I can get 10 reviews. Okay, so please review! I like to know what you think.**

** Remember: 10 reviews, please, people!**

** -Z**


	8. Chapter 7

** A/N: Hey, guys. Sigh. Only 3 reviews. Thanks to whoever did. Special thanks:**

** -****BlackAthena****: Thanks for yet another nice, long review! I'm going to take your advice because I totally agree. Max, despite what others may think, is not invincible. I already have it planned. Mwahahaha =].**

** -****EmotionalPoemGirl****: Thanks for the review! ****Ha-ha , no, it's okay. ****I understand completely. I don't like to type much either. It's too time-consuming. Why am I typing a story then? Because I like the story part =D. It's a good thing that I'm fast at typing, at least. Otherwise, this would take a **_**long**_** time. I appreciate that you took the time to type out a review, though.**

** -****DiamondSunshine****: Thanks for reviewing again! Thank you for the extremely kind words =)!**

** -****PonandZi****: Thank you for putting my story on your story alerts!**

** Okay. Here I am, updating again. Sorry I couldn't yesterday. It's just that I was really busy. I stayed up 'til three-something A.M. typing this and **_**still **_**wasn't done then. I'm finally done typing and editing (it's 3:48 P.M. now) so that was **_**lot**_** of typing. On Microsoft Word, this chapter is 6 pages (longest chapter yet!). It's not so much action, but more dialogue and info. The action and suspense will come real soon, I pinky swear. Here are the last few lines from chapter 6, in case you need it:**

** "**_**"Good, then, we'll take advantage of the fact that he is 'K.O.'ed and get that bullet out of him. After a bit, he'll wake up, and I think that he'll find that he'll be a bit **_**pressured**_** to answer our questions…"**_

_** A good leader probably shouldn't say that. Then again, I'm not your average leader, now am I?**_**"**

** So…here's chapter 7! A/N out!**

**7**

NOW, IF YOU were thinking that by _pressured_, I meant—you know—_torture_, I won't blame you. Because recalling my evil, little statement, if I were you, I probably would've thought the same. So, I'm not going to point fingers at anyone. But torturing people? Nah, that's not the way I roll. Well, not in so many words, I mean. I would call my way of doing things _prodding_ _persuasion_, I suppose.

For example, take right now, for instance.

"Ooh, ooh! I think he's waking up!" Nudge could barely contain herself. It's not every day you get to play 'villain'.

"He's thinking about how much his head is hurting. And his arm, especially—oh, that was _not _avery nice word," my little mind-reading sweetie whispered.

The Flock and Ella hovered over the chair José was in. If he was awake, his personal space bubble would've popped a while ago. The canine-Americans orbited the stranger from on the floor. Next to us, the living room fireplace grew dim with the last bits of embers.

Expectantly, we watched him as if waiting for him to jump up and do a flip. José stirred once more, and eagerly, we bustled around preparing for his questioning. Then, he let out a light snore, and we all groaned.

"Honestly, this dude is totally sucking up the attention," Iggy said, and I mentally agreed. He then gave an evil grin and continued. "You know," he began. "Gaz and I could give him a _proper_ wakeup call."

I sighed and strictly replied, "No. No bombs. That's final."

"Well," Gazzy intervened. "We we weren't thinking of _bombs_ necessarily—"

"Okay, allow me to elaborate. No bombs. As in: no fires, no stink bombs, and no dynamite. No explosives of _any_ sort, actually."

Iggy's maniacal grin faded like a deflated balloon, and the Gasman groaned an "Aw, man!"

Internally, I rolled my eyes and added, "_Guys_. We want to _interrogate_ the guy, not _kill_ him."

"_Actually_—"

"Well, maybe you do, Iggy." And to tell you the truth, I wouldn't have minded too much to let a bomb _slip_ on the bully. But, sadly, the angel on my right shoulder nagged its way through. Darn. "_But_," I continued. "We do want our questions answered, right?"

I heard agreement of varying enthusiasm.

From on the ground, Magnolia sniffed the odd figure in the chair. Akila pointedly stayed away, and Total growled at José's shoes. "If you need me to wake him up, I could bite his ankles off," Total offered. He rethought that and said, "But only as a last resort, of course. Have you seen those filthy shoes?" Total clicked his tongue and shook his head disapprovingly.

José had been knocked out for a few hours. Patiently, we had been waiting for him to gain consciousness, but it was hopeless. I mean, _come on_, the injury really wasn't that bad. I had never milked so much attention from broken ribs, for crying out loud.

"Is this all really necessary?" Fang wondered as if he had read my mind. "It's practically just a flesh wound."

"Heck if I know," I said. "Someone's a real sissy, huh?" Fang quirked a corner of his mouth in response to that, and I smiled back at him.

"Hey, people," Angel announced. "He's wondering about what all the noise is about. I think he's finally awake. Not a false alarm this time."

"Iggy?" I asked. I got an "Uh-huh?" in response. "Got the torturing device?" Another "Uh-huh." A beat passed. "…Can I have it?" I questioned slowly. I received a third "Uh-huh" and a plate of extra-pungent food. Was I having a snack while I was waiting to torture the damsel in distress? No. It was torture by the name of food. Not what you expected, huh? Like I said before, _actual_ torture is just not the way I roll. My form of doing things could be called _prodding persuasion_, I suppose.

Awkwardly, I stepped up to José and put the plate beneath his nose. "Wakey, wakey. We've got some food," I said tauntingly. "You know you want some." Right on cue, his stomach growled menacingly. "Actually, now we all know you want some."

He grumbled and shut his eyes even more. Nudge suddenly appeared lively, and I could almost see a light bulb glow over her head. She raised her hand, pointed to José, and quirked her eyebrow as if to ask me for permission for something. Suddenly, I understood and nodded at her encouragingly. Nudge took a few steps toward the boy and bent down to his ear. I winced in anticipation as she took a huge breath of air and hollered, "_Hellooooo!_" Ouch, that had to hurt. _Straight_ into his ear. I could've sworn I heard his eardrum shatter.

Needless to say, the loudmouth succeeded in waking José up. His eyes flew open, and he muttered a cuss. Fabulous. Just what I needed: another swear for Angel to soak up like a sponge.

"Glad you could join us," I said to him. "In case you need us to refresh your memory, you were shot. You came to our house and passed out. You've—"

"I already know that," he replied bitterly. "How long was I out?"

I pursed my lips. I had just been about to answer that. It was bad enough that I was helping someone who had shot me. He didn't need to be a jerk about it. "Maybe if you would've let me continue, you would know by now," I answered equally as bitterly. "You've been out for almost the whole day."

He hissed. "Crap." I glared at him for that. The guy had to cut it with the swearing already. I didn't need the younger Flock members cussing like sailors. "I've got to go." He began to stand up until Fang and I pushed him back down.

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa_. Hold it there, big guy. Where do _you _think you're going?" I asked.

"Need any ankle-biting yet?" Total reminded me. José's eyes bugged out when he realized that _dog_ was talking.

"Thanks for the offer, Total. Maybe later," I said threateningly and turned back to the boy who seemed to be covering up his fear. Who's the bully now?

"I can leave whenever I want to. You can't keep me here—"

"Not before we have some questions answered," I interrupted. I waved the plate of food in front of him once more and practically saw him lick his lips. He looked like he was looking at an all-you-can-eat buffet. "If you help us, we're willing to give you some of _this_."

He paused and seemed to think about it. I almost thought he would decline when he answered, "Okay. What do you want to know?"

Taken aback, I hesitated and scrambled for a good question to start out with. "Alright, then. Who shot you?"

"Dwayne the traitor."

Recognition flared in Ella's eyes and she asked, "Ciccone?"

Slowly he turned to her and scowled. "Yeah. Dwayne the traitor Ciccone."

"Wait, but wasn't he one of your fellow 'gangsters'?" Ella asked him mockingly.

His eyes narrowed and he answered, "Yeah. He _was_. That is until today when he put me and my little sister at gunpoint for a few freaking bread crumbs."

That crossed the question of _why_ he was shot off my list. And also if he had any food.

When I couldn't think of any questions to ask, Fang helped me from looking like an idiot. "Where are you staying now?"

"Why? So you guys can kick me out of my house, too?"

"Okay, kid," I said, sick of his annoying comebacks. "Enough with the snarky 'tude, alright? We just wanted to know where the attack took place."

He gave me a cold, hard stare and didn't reply.

"Speak, Sparky," I ordered, sarcasm taking over. "Or forever hold your peace."

After a moment of silence, José said, "I live a few blocks from here. Across the street from the middle school. That's where it happened."

Ella gave a nearly silent "Oh" and nodded. I had no clue where that was, but I was at least glad that José was cooperating.

"Was it just, like, all the sudden? Or did he give you a warning or something?" Nudge asked curiously.

José almost snorted. "Sure he did. He stuck a friendly post-it note on my door that said, 'Oh, by the way, ambushing your place at eight A.M. See you then!'" When I glared at him, he warily continued. "No. Actually, it was quite sudden. Just he and a few of my other guys broke in and forced me to give them the little food my sister and I had left. We got the last bits from the grocery stores. So, Dwayne and the guys felt the dumb need to take ours. Traitor Ciccone led the group."

Iggy decided to ask a question of his own. "What happened then?"

"I got shot, of course." José rolled his eyes and then curiously looked at Iggy's glazed-over eyes, probably wondering why they weren't looking directly at him.

Iggy gave him a _no-freaking-duh_ look back at him, and Gazzy said, "Well, yeah, but how did you get shot? Did you refuse to give them food or something?"

To this question, José didn't seem too open to. He let out a large sigh and admitted, "Well, I wasn't exactly too comfortable with them threatening my sister with a gun, you know? So, I took out my father's gun, got my sister to run upstairs and hide, and told the guys to leave or else. Then, we had a gun fight, I guess." Kids nowadays. One day, it's a squirt gun, then, it's a shotgun. "They started it, though. I dodged a lot of bullets and hit a lot of 'em, but one of them managed to freaking _shoot_ me." Been there, done that.

"So, at this point, I fell on the ground. They took the food from the fridge and left me there, bleeding to death. So, I dragged myself away from the house to find help. The houses next to me were either abandoned or squat houses for the local gangs. So, I didn't go there, obviously." His eyebrows wrinkled then, and I guessed that the rest was hard to remember. I had experience with that kind of situation so I could sympathize. "The rest is pretty fuzzy. I don't remember exactly how, but I got into the woods. Then, when I found civilization, I got desperate and knocked on your door. From that point on, you already know.

"_But_," he continued. "_I_ don't know what happened. So, what happened?"

Nudge began to excitedly fill him in. "Well, when you passed out, we left you on this chair and waited for _long_ time for you to wake up. We took out the bullet in your arm while you were knocked out, stitched you up, and bandaged it and everything, so don't worry. It didn't seem too deep. But you did lose a _ton_ of blood. So, if you're feeling dizzy, that's why."

"A not-so-brief news brief: brought to you by Nudge," I said. Then, I realized what I said and my eyes widened and I bit my tongue. I wasn't supposed to say any of our names. For one thing, we weren't sure if we could even trust José in the first place. For another thing, our names were quite well-known from being famous bird kids and all. From my slipup, he could figure out whom—or rather, what—we were. Shoot.

Just as I expected, José's eyes widened to the size of golf balls. Then, tennis balls. Then, dinner plates. His eyes flickered to each of the six of us and Total on the ground. "I knew it! You-you're the—oh, man!" He laughed nervously and composed himself. "You're the bird kids, aren't you?"

A slight cough came from a particular Scottie below us and José added, "And you're the talking, flying dog!"

Total grumbled about being a "dog", and Angel picked him up and told him reassuringly, "But you're not just _any_ dog. You're an awesome one." She put Total back down on the ground. He seemed a bit happier at her comment.

Still seeming totally psyched, José asked us, "Oh, God. Do you have those wicked wings, too?"

I, on the other hand, had a question that arose from his story before. It was important, too. "There's no more food left in the grocery stores?"

"I asked first."

"Sure you did. But if we really were those 'bird kids' you're talking about, we could whoop your butt right here and now if you don't answer my question. Is there any food left in the grocery stores?"

"You answer my question. I'll answer yours."

"So, if I told you if we had stinking wings, would you tell me already about the grocery stores?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

I looked back at the Flock who was looking at the two of us back and forth like we were an intense ping pong match. I guess we were astonishingly similar.

Hmm. Revealing our identities in return for having knowledge about our food.

If you thought that I was going to let him know about us that easily, then, you've got another think coming. 'Cause I wasn't going to just give up that quickly.

"Nope," I replied. "No wings here. No way, José." Ha-ha. "We're 'wicked' wingless."

"Uh-huh. Sure." He didn't sound too convinced. Suddenly, he grabbed Total and quickly rummaged the fur on his back until he found a pair of black wings. Total looked incredulous and embarrassed and awkwardly scuttled out of José arms. José, meanwhile, just gave us all a smug _aha-you've-been-caught-red-handed_ look.

I gasped deeply and pointed to him. "Cheater _pantalones_!" I accused.

"Oh yeah?" he said. "Well, then, you're liar _pantalones_."

I glared at him and countered, "You still owe us our answer."

"No, I don't. You lied to me, so—"

"Uh-uh. That's not what we agreed to. We said 'an answer for an answer', not 'a correct answer for a correct answer'." I pointed out.

"So," José started. "I don't have to answer correctly, now do I?" But when I gave him my ultimate death stare he said, "Okay, okay. Fine. You probably would've found out anyways. Yep, it's true. There's no more food in all of the grocery stores and supermarkets in this area. My sister and I scanned it all recently. It's all gone."

At this, my eyebrows furrowed. It wasn't like we had to starve to death—we could catch some 'good' eatin' outside—, but it still was an issue.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Fang bend down to Nudge and whisper something into her ear. Her jaw dropped in horror, and she ran to me and hugged me for dear life.

In shaky breaths she said, "M-Max! Fang said th-that we were going to have to eat s-squirrels! _Roast_ squirrel!"

I half expected her to say "Oh, Max, say it aint so!" I smothered my chuckles and comfortingly patted her wild curls. Then, I looked at Fang and mouthed _squirrels?_, and a ghost of a grin flashed upon his lips.

José's face suddenly took on a look of surprise, and he said, "Look, I've _really_ got to go. For my sister, Gabby." Then I was almost sure I had a murmur saying, "Ever since Rob left…"

Nudge, being the li'l' nosy mutant she is, asked him, "Who's Rob?"

A sad look came across his eyes. I didn't expect him to answer but he replied, "Rob was my sister's and my older brother. He…he—uh—" José stopped himself, unable to speak anymore.

"Oh. Oh, no. I'm so sorry," Nudge apologized. "I didn't know."

Gazzy, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind prodding José with the death of his brother and asked him, "How old was he?"

"He had just turned sixteen. If only he was just a bit younger…"

That grabbed my attention. Maybe José knew if the virus 'woke' up immediately after turning sixteen. Maybe he knew if it was a gradual process or not. Maybe he knew if the virus was in all of us just waiting to take effect on our 'sweet' sixteens.

Or maybe he didn't know any of that. If Rob had gotten sick when the virus was still hopping from person to person, José wouldn't know if he had the virus all along but it wasn't harming him until he turned sixteen or if he got it randomly. There goes my lead.

But I still had to know all the same. What if he _did_ know, somehow? So when José said, "Gabby's probably flipping out. I have to go." I got a bad knee-jerk reaction.

"I don't think so. You're staying here," I heard myself say. It was like my mind had no say in the matter.

"Wait, what? Why?" Ah, the three W's.

Quickly, I tried to think of a reason that wouldn't make me sound like a complete idiot. "Uh—because you just got shot. You can't go moving around just yet." Angel probed my mind, and when she found out the reason that I wanted José to stay, she nodded. Fang searched my eyes and then nodded in understanding, probably remembering our chitchat from the morning.

"But I got shot in the _arm_," José said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I can still _walk_."

"I wouldn't," Fang intervened, and I was glad that he was backing me up. "It's not exactly the most pleasant thing in the world to walk with a bullet wound." If I could've laughed, I would've because that was a total heap of bologna. It was not _that_ bad.

But obviously, José didn't know that because his eyes widened the slightest bit and he said, "But what about Gabby—"

"We can get her," a sweet voice said. Angel. Last time I checked, I hadn't hired her as leader. I turned to her and gave her a threatening look.

But before I could say anything, José accepted. "Okay. How are you guys gonna get her?"

I made sure that Angel couldn't slip in some of her annoying leader skills and quickly said, "Fang, Angel, and I can get her." I refused to give José the satisfaction of knowing that we were going to fly.

The rest of them looked like they wanted to argue, but Fang, being the bearer of all logic explained it to them quietly. Making his voice too low for José to hear, he said, "Guys, we don't know if we can trust him yet. We need a mind reader to find the girl and Max and I in case the shooters are still around. We also need people to keep an eye on him, and what better than to have our two best pyros and tech whiz watch him?"

After Iggy, Nudge, and Gazzy looked more settled, I turned to Ella. "Sorry, Ella, but since you obviously can't fly, it's going to be too hard to bring you along. But maybe you can get him to talk some more since you know him. Even though you aren't on the best of terms with the guy." Then, I bent my head down to Total, Akila and Magnolia. "We can't carry you if we're already going to carry his sister. But you can still show him who's boss, Total." Total growled menacingly and I added, "Now, that's the spirit."

"Max," Ella called to me. "Ingleside Middle School's a bit west from here. If you go high enough, you'll see it."

"Thanks, Ella," I said graciously. Then not-so-graciously, I asked José, "Hey, what's the address, kid?"

"1707 East Osborne Road," he said.

I nodded, pretending that I knew where that was.

"Oh, and tell her 'code sixteen'. Then, she'll go with you," he added. I nodded once more, impressed with the fact that they made a code system.

I handed José his reward for answering our questions: the plate of food. The look on his face was priceless.

Then, I turned to Fang and Angel. "Ready, guys?" I optimistically asked. They both nodded. I took a deep breath and reminded myself what we were doing this for. "Okay, then, let's hit the road, jack."

**A/N: By the way, for you non-Spanish-speakers, **_**pantalones**_** means pants. So Max said, "Cheater pants!" and José said, "…liar pants." **

** Alright, how 'bout we try for… 8 reviews? Please? Oh, and I plan on updating soon(ish) because this chapter isn't too action-packed, you know?**

_**'Kay. 8 reviews, please!**_

** -Z**


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: LIKE, **_**MAJOR**_** WHOAAA, GUYS! Hm, no, more like—HOLY **_**SHITAKI MUSHROOMS**_**, GUYS! You gave me 11 reviews! Niiiiice!**

** [By the way… I uploaded the chapter before on accident… so this is the real one!]**

** Okay, so, ecstatic moment aside, I need to make an apology (blegh). So…maybe I didn't update soon(ish). It's actually been… almost three weeks. I'm sooooo (so, so, so, so, etc.) SORRY! And if you actually care for my excuses, here they are:**

**Well, for one thing, my teachers are cruel, merciless, cold-hearted people. Well, nah, but they do assign a lot of homework. So, that's 'cruel, merciless' and 'cold-hearted' in my book.**

**I've been having a dilemma. I had the plot all perfect and planned out and la-di-da-di-da **_**but then**_** WHOA! Ideas attacked and slapped me silly! I blame the fact that I think too much… So now, I'm not exactly sure how I want to branch off from this. But, this past few weeks, I've been able to give it some thought and eliminated some outrageous/hard-to-do ideas. The ideas don't affect the near future of this story so that's why I can update at this time.**

**I'm a slight procrastinator. Gah, who am I kidding? Slight? **_**Slight**_**? No, make that '**_**huge**_**'. But I really will try my absolute hardest to improve! Procrastinators unite! ...tomorrow. Ha-ha…ha.**

**One word. One very important word. FANG. I read it… last Tuesday. And a smidgen of Monday. But pretty much just Tuesday (and in a few hours too). And lemme tell you, it—was—**_**epic**_**. Freaking, flippin' **_**epic**_**. Really. In my opinion, it was **_**much**_** better than TFW and even better than MAX. If you don't have it, get your freaking hands on it. No joke, you won't regret it. Like, the first part is kinda iffy, but once you get to part two, it's **_**amazing **_**from then on**_**.**_** And the ending is really quite unexpected and shocking. A big change, one that'll change the rest of the books. And by the way, I recommend reading it all at once. It's easier to imagine and get sucked into the story that way. And don't read it at school (or the School, har-har) because that just ruins the mood. There's so much I want to talk about!!! P.M. me if you've already read it and want to discuss it. So, reading FANG took some time, obviously. Which leads me to…**

**Once I read FANG, I wasn't in a writing mood. I won't tell you why because I don't want to spoil anything, but, for one thing, it's hard to write after you know what happens after MAX, ya know? Especially since this is post-MAX. But I'm in the mood (no dirty references, gutter minds) now. So here I am.**

** Since I want to keep this A/N as short as possible (ha, **_**as if**_**), I'm going to mention each one of you "briefly". Yeah, as you can probably tell, briefness (ha! It's a word!) isn't my thing. Special thanks:**

** -****airtrafficstreams****: Aw, shucks, you're so sweet! I loved your (seven!) reviews! Every single one of them! **_**And**_** you put my story on your favorite stories list. Thank you **_**so**_** much!**

** -****BlackAthena****: Thank you for (once again) reviewing! You're such a dedicated reader *grin*. Ha-ha, I'm glad that you liked the **_**pantalones**_** thing!**

** -****emotionalpoemgirl****: Thanks for reviewing! I know that you're not a big fan of typing, but that makes me all the more grateful that you took the time to review.**

** -****DiamondSunshine****: Oh, yeah, I know you want to know. Ha-ha, but it's part of the mystery that will unravel in this story, so it **_**will**_** be solved! Thank you!**

** -****ivyflightislistening****: Nah, don't worry 'bout it! I'm just glad that you reviewed! Thanks for your kind words!**

** -****p3aCel0vEaNddAncE****: Thanks for putting my story on your story alert subscription!**

** -****Music Freak 96****: Thank you for putting my story on your favorite stories list!**

** Yeah, okay, that wasn't brief in any way at all. But I needed to get my gratitude out there! Thank you all—in case you didn't catch my thankfulness, ha-ha.**

** Oh and here's a little something for ya that I've noticed: Have you ever realized how much repetition of plots and extras there is in Maximum Ride fanfiction nowadays? (Slight FANG spoiler: there's a ton of fanfiction stereotypes in FANG. I found quite a few, but I digress…) It's, like, ridiculous and ludicrous! So, I give you…**

** Cliché of the Day (CD. Or COD, ha-ha): Max leaving the Flock. I mean, seriously? I **_**know**_** it can't just be me. But I see it **_**everywhere**_**. Whether she's kicked out or if she leaves on her own. It's so **_**overused**_**, man.**

** Well. That was random. But I'm not as random as you think I salad.**

** Previously on the Countdown:**

_**"1707 East Osborne Road," he said.**_

_**I nodded, pretending that I knew where that was.**_

_**"Oh, and tell her 'code sixteen'. Then, she'll go with you," he added. I nodded once more, impressed with the fact that they made a code system.**_

_**I handed José his reward for answering our questions: the plate of food. The look on his face was priceless.**_

_**Then, I turned to Fang and Angel. "Ready, guys?" I optimistically asked. They both nodded. I took a deep breath and reminded myself what we were doing this for. "Okay, then, let's hit the road, jack."**_

__**This A/N is getting way too freaking long. Congrats if you actually read it. So, here's chapter 8, **_**muchachos**_**! A/N out!**

**8**

SURE, A RANDOM kid just figured out our identities. And, sure, we could be blackmailed for that. And, of course, we could drop dead from the virus any day now. And, sure, starvation—if we don't die by the virus first—could be set on our calendars—soon. And—oh, yeah—it was a given that the Voice could possibly nag me to death before I even got to saving the world—if I really was supposed to. And, and, and.

_But_, why stress when you can fly?

Every single worry, nag, stress, and concern just floated away into la-la land. And this is coming from me, Maximum _McStressed_ Ride, so it's not any easy thing to say. That is, unless it's true. And it _so _was, at the moment. With the wind whistling through my hair, with the fresh air filtrating through my lungs, with the warm currents lifting me up, feather by feather, it was hard to _not _relax every twitchy, paranoid, bird-kid-light bone in my body.

The sun had just set, causing the sky to be darkened and slightly tinged with pinks and purples. At the moment, Angel, Fang, and I were making our way west to Ingleside Middle School.

It was surprisingly peaceful. A bit _too_ peaceful if you ask me. But, hey, maybe it was just my paranoia talking.

I looked over to Angel. We were whizzing by, going who knows how many miles per hour, so her hair whipped around her head, making it look like she had a halo. Appropriately enough. She seemed a bit bored but entertained herself by wiggling a bottom tooth. That girl was losing teeth like a shark.

I turned my head to my right towards Fang. When he caught me looking, he gave me one of his rare smiles, I gave a full-blown grin right back. I saw a flicker of something in his eyes and recognized it. Hope. I felt it too because, for the first time in a long time, the both of us didn't feel that we were fighting for a completely lost cause. If José knew the secret of the virus, we wouldn't be in so much of a pickle.

"Yoo-hoo, Max," Angel tauntingly said, waving a hand in front of my face. "The middle school's just below us."

"Alright then. Let's land."

As we landed on the damp pavement, I scanned the street. I looked to my left. "1689," I announced, stating the address of the house next to us. "We're close, guys. Just a bit further."

As we walked down the damp street, I heard Fang murmur the numbers, "1695… 1697… 1699…"

Meanwhile, I glanced at each house in horror. They looked like they could've been in a photo shoot for the Top 25 Cutest Houses or something way back when. But now, they were spray painted, broken-windowed, and falling apart. Yikes, when José was talking about the local gangs taking over, he really wasn't kidding.

"1705… 1707. This is it," Fang declared.

I looked up at José's home. Compared to the other houses I had seen, it looked relatively untouched except for a dangling shutter on the second floor. It was one of those modern Arizona houses: made of adobe, brick-topped, and looked so clean that it could squeak. Hesitantly, and to break the tension, I said, "Well, are we going to go in or just stand and stare at it?"

We shuffled our feet down the walkway until we were face-to-face with the door. Or, rather, face-to-door. I grasped the doorknob preparing for a grand entrance. Only, the door was locked. _Of course_.

"Now what?" Angel asked.

"Anyone who's randomly got the power to unlock doors, speak up now," I announced sarcastically. "No one? Shame." It was a pretty snazzy door that I didn't want to have to break down. I tensed to ram myself into it.

However, Fang took out something that looked suspiciously like a picklock. It gleamed in the faint moonlight, and I could almost hear a choir sing.

"Not that I mind the sudden answer to our problems, but where did you get that?" I curiously questioned.

"Iggy gave it to me," he replied. "I had a feeling we'd need it."

"And right you were," I added. I waved him to the door and said, "Do your thing."

Angel grinned, and Fang, smirking, took my place in front of the knob and began working. After a bit of time ticked by, he suddenly told us, "Got it."

"Nice," I said, clapping him on the back. "Iggy would be proud."

We shared a look, and then the three of us stepped into the dark, vacant house.

~*~

Nudge let out a large huff of boredom and flopped herself back on the couch. She hated being there, left with nothing to do except watch over some injured stranger. She understood why Angel, Fang, and Max left, though. She just figured that she didn't have to like it.

In reply to Nudge's sigh, Ella said, "Oh, yeah, I know, right?" and rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "I'm so _bored_."

Nudge nodded her head vigorously and then sat in silence. When she couldn't take the quiet anymore she told Ella, "Hey, I'm going to the bathroom. 'Kay?" But she just wanted an excuse to get up so that she could shake off the tingling, prickling sensation in her legs. Ella nodded slightly in response. Nudge rose from her seat on the couch and walked a few steps over to Iggy who was planted on the ground next to the Gasman, Total, Akila, Magnolia, and the sleeping José. She bent over and tapped Iggy's hand twice. His eyes were suddenly more alert so Nudge knew that he had gotten the message, _you're in charge_.

Nudge roamed down the hall going nowhere in particular. Pacing back and forth, she let her mind wander to various things. Everything from slight worry for Max, Angel, and Fang to random urges for food, clothing, and a decent shower.

Then, her attention came back from her clouded thoughts, and she realized where she was.

She looked to the left side of the hall and peered into the office. Dr. Martinez had used it back when she was alive for her studies and doing miscellaneous work on the computer. Something on the desk caught Nudge's eye. The Flock's laptop. It depressed Nudge to see it look so dusty and unused. It was her long lost friend. There was no more use for it anymore since there was no electricity. A small frown played on Nudge's lips.

At the back of the room, there was a heap of books on a dirty, wooden bookshelf. Nudge casually stepped over to look at some of the titles and found that the curious learner within herself was intrigued. There were a few books on literature—even a bit of history—but the most common type was science. Her eyes scanned the various book spines and stopped when she saw a coincidental pair right next to each other. A book about birds and another about genetics and combining DNA. Nudge doubtfully reassured herself that it was surely a coincidence, but she made a mental note to tell Max about it later.

Looking back at the various pieces of literature, she saw another unusual duo neighboring each other. A book about evolution and another about viruses. Her eyebrows knit together and she picked up the book titled _Viruses and Their Behavior_. A disc slipped out of it. Nudge gingerly picked it up from off the floor and read the words on it: _The Bisect Plan_—and in parenthesis, _The Universal Virus_. Nudge recognized the name of the deadly virus, but didn't know what to make of the disc lying in Dr. Martinez's office. She made a mental note to herself to show Max the books and the disc before she showed anyone else. It was only fair that she would be the first to find out what this meant of her mom, and Nudge felt like even though Dr. M was Ella's mom, too, Max would know what to do more than she would.

While Nudge flipped through the pages of the complex book, she was interrupted when she heard a voice say, "Yo, Nudge! What are you doing in there? Not pulling a Gazzy, are you?" Iggy.

"Hey!" Gazzy.

Nudge rolled her eyes at their antics but gently put the book and disc back in their previous place and walked back to the living room with a million more questions flashing through her mind.

~*~

At that moment, I caught a slight drift of how Alice felt when she went down the rabbit hole. Everything looked so unreal and surreal that I was half expecting the Cheshire Cat to pop out from the middle of nowhere. Of course, I had the next closest thing to my right: Fang.

I could easily tell that it used to be a good-looking home, as far as houses go. However, I could also easily tell that it wasn't anymore.

As we paced the floor, I saw broken shards of glass by the back, bullets and blood in the kitchen, and dust covering everything to be seen—and not seen. Not to mention the gloomy darkness that made everything seem like we were in a cheesy horror flick. It was just the three of us in what was a seemingly vacant house.

Just your typical Three Stooges, eh?

I snapped myself back into leader mode. "Well, we're not just here to stare at the 'lovely' scenery. Where's Gabby?"

"It's so weird," Angel curiously began, "but I don't think I can hear her. Thinking, I mean. She must be really good at mind blocking," she added even though she didn't sound too convinced. "Maybe she's upstairs?"

"Maybe. Well, there's only one way to find out," I replied and then yelled, "Gabby!" A round of applause for my wonderful skills: shouting for her to come out. Oh, yeah, she was sure to come running now.

"Maybe you should say, 'Come out, come out wherever you are!'. You know, like in hide and seek?"

I turned towards the sarcastic speaker. "Oh, you're so_ funny_, Fang," I bitterly and sardonically snapped.

"I try."

We both cracked a smile at that. Then, he added something that made me feel like a total, complete, utter idiot. "You know, she's not going to come out. She doesn't know who we are. We have to say, 'code sixteen', remember?"

I pursed my lips, gave a huff of indignation and said, "I knew that." Then I gave a light _ahem_ in the back of my throat and hollered, "_Gabby! Code sixteen!_" Fang and Angel joined in, making our nuisance impossible to ignore. I gave it a few minutes 'til she cracked.

"She's upstairs, right?" I asked Fang and Angel. Angel immediately nodded, and Fang nodded after a moment of thinking over José's story.

Working together swiftly, our trio ran up the flight of stairs and continued to call for her.

Just your typical Charlie's Angels, eh?

I looked to the three doors to my left. And then to the two on my right.

"Which room do you think is hers?" I asked to no one in particular.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Fang pace a few steps to the last door on the left. "Gee, I have no clue, Max." He was staring at something intently on the door. I walked over to see what he found to so interesting—and why he was in the Mr. Sarcastic mode again.

On the door were plenty of colorful pictures and designs. However, the hardest thing to miss was the girl's name, Gabby, in large, neon block letters. Just what I needed: another way for Fang to make me seem idiotic.

"Well," I began, pursing my lips. "That only makes sense."

Angel walked over to us. After a sigh, I said, "'Kay, let's get this show on the road."

When I opened the door unsure of what I would of what I'd find, I most certainly found something that I would've never guessed.

_Oh. God._

I took a sharp intake of breath.

My mouth slightly agape, I looked at the horrific room. Blood. Everywhere. It was like a murder scene. Pools of crimson gathered on the wood floors, on the carpet. On the bed.

And right in the center of the terror was a small girl who looked to be about Angel's age. Only, she had an unnaturally pale face and an ostentatious bullet wound right where her heart should've been.

"Oh, God," I muttered. _Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God._

I heard a light sniffle to my left. I turned to see Angel with bloodshot, glassy, sapphire-like eyes. "Max," she whispered in a broken voice. "It's Gabby."

I nodded pitifully. Sadly, I had already guessed that. And now, I knew for sure because Angel had probably seen Gabby in José's mind.

"Oh, God," she said, echoing the only two words going through my mind. "I don't hear her thinking. Is she…" she trailed off. I heard a few small sobs.

Stoically, Fang walked to where Gabby lied and kneeled on his knees. He pressed two fingers to her wrist. And tried again to her other wrist. And again to her neck.

_Please, don't let it be what I think is. _And then the same repeating two words.

_Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God._

But I saw a flicker of sorrow in Fang's eyes. And the slightest shake of his head. I knew what it meant: _no pulse_.

I pressed my lips together. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Angel transform into the stunning facsimile of the shorter, brown-haired, brown-eyed Gabby. Only, she wasn't so pale, was lacking a gaping hole in the center of her chest, and had a tear running down her cheek.

I knew what Angel was thinking. I didn't need to be a mind-reader to know that. But despite knowing that we had to this, the mounting pain and guilt didn't fade the slightest. I didn't want to have to do this to José, but it was the only way to find out the information we needed.

_It's the only way_, I reassured myself as the three of us stood over Gabby's body.

_Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God._

Not your typical trio anymore, now are we?

**A/N: Ick, sorry to ruin the mood with this. But there are a few things I need to say…**

** (After writing about half of this…) Oh, God. It's 9:40-something. And I still haven't started my homework yet. Not to mention that I left an important paper at school. Can we say, 'I'M. SO. SCREWED.'? I can. Clearly. But this is the blood, sweat, and tears I go through for you guys. Well. Minus the blood and sweat part. But the tears? Well, let's just say that sneeze attacks suck. I swear—I just sneezed (insert large number here) times in the past few minutes.**

** (After finishing this…) Phew!**

** 'Kay guys, I'm going to make this as short as possible (ha, **_**as if**_**) so lemme just say this: ouch. I saw the number of hits with my handy, dandy story stats thingy. And I was impressed. That's not the 'ouch' part. The 'ouch' is that I've got 400 hits (nice number, eh?)… and only 25 reviews. I did a bit of "brain-splitting" math (in my calculator, no worries) and found out that that means that only 0.0625 of the hits reviewed. That's 6.25 percent. That's PUH-thetic, people! Man up (well, you know what I mean)! Thank you to those who **_**do**_** review (you know who you are), but if you're one of those folks who read and don't review (you know who you are), shame on you, and I'm watching you. I know where you live. And what you did last summer. Ha…ha… cue laughter…that was a joke…ha…ha?**

** No, but really, if you really are soooo busy that you can't leave just one measly, little, weensy review, then do this for me, at least: Click on the greenish button below and press one/two little letter(s) according to how you like this story so far (or the chapter). H=Hate, D=Dislike, Li=Like, and Lo=Love. Capiche?**

** Or, you know, if you're nice enough, you can actually leave an actual review while you're at it ;)…and lemme know why you H, D, Li, or Lo it.**

** Hm… do any of you actually read these? The ridiculously looong A/Ns, I mean? **

** Huh…**

** P.S. If you actually read my A/Ns say something random in a review… like… I dunno… your hair color, favorite food, emotion of the moment, weather where you are, your favorite soda, or a ranDUMB subject of your choosing. Thanks if you actually do read these!**

** P.S.S. I plan on updating soon! Really, this time. (THANK YOU, SPRING BREAK!)**

_**PLEASE**_**, REVIEW! I'M WATCHING YOU, NON-REVIEWERS! BEWARE! Ha-ha, just kidding—BUT REALLY, REVIEW!**

** -Z**


	10. Chapter 9

** A/N: Hey, guys! 8 reviews. Nice! Not the best but eh, still good! I don't want to take my reviews for granted, now do I?**

***Mm, by da way, this A/N was written a while ago…like…Tuesday of spring break or something. So, that explains my rantishness. 'Cause I wrote this when I was reeeeaaally bored. So…if you want, you can totally just completely skip all o' this. I just needed to get my feelings out of my system, ha-ha. Why was I so bored? And why was this update so flippin' late (SORRY! AHHHH!)? Well, allow me to explain…***

** At the moment, I am writing this at my mom's office (she's a doc) because she keeps trying to keep me out of the house…which is nice an' all, but she's doing this because she's convinced that I have an unhealthy obsession with the computer. Really. Then again...she's kinda (HA! 'Kinda'? '**_**Kinda'?**_** More like '**_**really**_**') right. Thus, she has been trying to drag me out of the house as much as possible during my lovely spring break. Here's an example of this:**

** "We're going."**

** "Um, that's nice and all, but may I ask where to, Mommy Dearest?"**

** A beat.**

** "Breakfast."**

** "Where?"**

** Another beat.**

** "Corner Bakery."**

** "Mom, but that doesn't open 'til lunch—"**

** "**_**Doesn't matter!**_** We're going! Your aunt and cousins will be there!"**

**Another scenario (today's, actually)**

_**RING, RING!**_

** A sleepy me answers the phone…because I love sleeping in. Ahem. Anywho…"Hello?"**

** "We're going."**

_**Oh, not this again**_**, I think, but I say, "Where to?"**

** A beat.**

** "Breakfast."**

** As a sense of déjà moo, the feeling that I've been through this bull before, washes over me, reluctantly, I say, "Where?"**

** Another beat.**

** "Corner Bakery."**

** "Mom, but that doesn't open 'til lunch—"**

** "**_**Doesn't matter!**_** We're going! In twenty minutes! And after that, since I don't want to have to go back home, we're going straight to the office. Your sister needs driving hours so she'll drive. Bring a book."**

** So, voila. I love Corner Bakery and all, but after a few days of my usual order (chicken pamadori panini combo with roasted tomato basil soup. Yum), even the most panini-loving gal like myself gets sick of it.**

** So, you're probably wondering where the computer comes in…well, Sister Dearest brought the laptop. Yay! And I'm not even keeping the fact that I'm using the laptop a secret. My mom knows so… It's kinda a bit redundant that she took me to work with her. Every now and then, I'll pick up the book I was supposed to be reading, Harry Potter Uno—**

** We interrupt this segment for a bit of my randomness.**

** While I was reading HP 1, I couldn't help but laugh when they JKR talked about Hagrid's dog. For example:**

_**Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "**_**Back**_**, Fang**_**—back**_**."**_

__**Or, a personal favorite of mine…**

_**Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes.**_

** I'd like to take a moment to LMAO… HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! Ahhh, it's so odd because I keep imagining the MR Fang drooling all over Harry Potter's robes…**

** *Starts cracking up again uncontrollably* Mm, I better stop now 'cause my sister is giving me a funny look. Not a first…**

** We now go back to our regular programming. Thank you for tuning in—**

** …but then I thought, **_**What the hey, I'll try to update CDTTSD**_**. So here I am.**

** WOW, I veered off course. Continuing…**

** Special thanks ('cause even if I had a **_**ton**_** of reviews, I still feel the need to personally thank everyone):**

** -****BlackAthena****: YAY! You lo it! And guess what? I lo your review. And you for reviewing =). Good idea, bee tee dubs (bee tee dubs is a word from 'my language' that is derived from 'b t dub' which is derived from 'b t double-u' which is derived from 'BTW' which is derived from 'by the way' which is derived from…cat. Wow this is ranDUMB. I'm going to just stop this right…now), but I'm not sure if I can fit it into the plot! Don't worry, though, either ways, Max is going to get hurt. *Evil laughter*. Thanks for the consistent reading and reviewing!**

_**Wow**_** that reply was long. Not because I favor her (I'm assuming you're a 'her'…I mean, 'Black**_**Athena**_**' and Athena is female. Forgive me if you're not though, ha-ha.) or anything. Just because I felt an OCD-like pressing need to explain a word in my special, not-so-secret language. He-he…^**

** Continuing…**

** -****emotionalpoemgirl****: Yay! You li/lo it! I understand… it's a bit slow right now. Buh-lieve me, the action's coming soon. And yeah, lo's are reserved for climaxes. Still, I'm glad that you gave me feedback so…thanks for the consistent reading and reviewing!**

** -****Crazyweirdsister****: YAY! You lo it! Ha-ha, I love the randomnossity of your review! And no…sadly, randomnossity is **_**not **_**a word. It's from my own personal language. 'Randomnossity' is derived from the word 'randomnessity' (also not a real word) which is derived from randomness (real word) which is derived from random which is derived from...cat. I just added 'ity' to 'randomness' and changed the 'e' to an 'o' because it sounds—and looks—cooler that way. IMHO. Ha-ha, this 'little' reply was full of randomnossity as well. Yeah, your review is probably the most random review I got. Nice. Thanks for reviewing! And for favoriting my story!**

_**Wow**_** that reply was long. Not because I favor her (I'm assuming you're a 'her'…I mean, 'Crazyweird**_**sister**_**' so…) or anything. Just because I was being random as well. I love **_**all**_** your reviews! And I'm going all Mother Teresa. Shut up, me! Ha…ha…^**

** Ahem. Continuing…**

** -****kirena45****: YAY! I'm glad that you think that "this is really good"! And as for the subtle fax, I felt that subtle was the best way to go since this is not a pure romance story, ya know? And in the books (or at least, for the most part), it tends to be that way. It's a pet peeve of mine when a fanfiction story has a faxness overload. He-he, thanks for reviewing! And thanks for both favoriting AND 'story alert'ing my story!**

** -****Kouma the AQH****: YAY! You lo the story so far! Yippee! Hmm… beef stew **_**is **_**good! Anything beef, really. I **_**love**_** meat. WHEN I SAY HILLSHIRE, YOU SAY FARM! HILLSHIRE! FARM! GO MEAT! And thanks for 'story alert'ing this story!**

** -****DiamondSunshine****: YAY! You lo it! Mm, like, Oh—Em—Gee. I LOVE CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM, TOO! AHHH! Ha-ha, that was odd… thanks for reviewing!**

** -****ivyflightislistening****: Looooooved the long review! I agree with absolutely **_**everything**_** that you said about ****FANG****! Since you have such a loooooong review (that I love, bee tee dubs) I'll try to reply to your review 'cause I really want to talk to you about it! Later, hopefully. 'Cause Mommy Dearest randomly checks on what I'm doing. So, it's better if I can semi-reply to you now when I can save this (thank you, Microsoft Word!) and not have to start all over. I'll give you a proper reply later! Thanks for your consistent reviewing!**

** -****turtlelover0511****: Wow! You found my story even when it wasn't recently updated! So I thank you for that! I'm glad that you find this story cool, the idea unique, and interesting! YAY! Thanks for reviewing! And favoriting and 'story alert'ing my story!**

** Holy shitake mushrooms! That was sooooo long! Sorry!!! Huh…this is probably even longer than the actual chapter…**

** Which leads me to…**

** This is a short chapter. I had this twist planned later for an awesome chapter (a really action-packed one!) but then I figured that it would probably be better to put this little twist in here to even it out a bit and wake up any sleeping readers, ha-ha.**

** The chapter's also in Enemy POV, but it'll go back to Max's POV next chapter! This has a big reference to SOF. And since this is so short, I plan on updating over this weekend (legit, people, legit!).**

** Previously on the Countdown…**

_**I pressed my lips together. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Angel transform into the stunning facsimile of the shorter, brown-haired, brown-eyed Gabby. Only, she wasn't so pale, was lacking a gaping hole in the center of her chest, and had a tear running down her cheek.**_

_** I knew what Angel was thinking. I didn't need to be a mind-reader to know that. But despite knowing that we had to do this, the mounting pain and guilt didn't fade the slightest. I didn't want to have to do this to José, but it was the only way to find out the information we needed.**_

_** It's the only way, I reassured myself as the three of us stood over Gabby's body.**_

_** Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.**_

_** Not your typical trio anymore, now are we?**_

** 'Kay, guys! Sorry 'bout that LONG A/N. Heeeeerree's…chapter 9 (or the 10****th**** installment! Double digits, baby!)! A/N out!**

**9**

It was quiet. Too quiet for the leader's liking. The only noise was the occasional chirp from a darned bird. Just like the three little birdies on the second floor of the house next to him and his group.

"Hey," a group-member said to him, grabbing his attention. "Hey," he repeated, "I spy with my little eye…" The clan-member paused. "Three pretty birdies we're gonna stake out." The associate chuckled at his own joke and smiled dopily, waiting for approval from the leader.

"Clever," the leader replied drily and sarcastically. The fellow member didn't catch the bitter tone of the leader's voice and just grinned pompously.

The head waited for the irritating affiliate to leave and then climbed up a scenic tree for a better view and some solitude. He sighed, finally in somewhat peace—once he crushed an infuriating, noisy raven that was irking him. The cocoon of leaves and branches made a nice barrier from the rest of the world and its troubles. And his annoying coworkers. In his sight was a window of a charming yet eerie house. He could see figures in the window talking nervously and leaning over something. Or someone. The chief recognized the three birds of prey and snarled when he saw the eldest female. And then smiled maniacally. She wouldn't slip from his fingers again. Not this time. He was sure of it.

He could almost imagine her face in the bark as he brought his inhumanly large fist down on a thick branch. It snapped as if it were a toothpick and fell to the ground with a loud _thud!_ Oops. But the leader just simply shrugged and went back to his twisted thoughts.

"Hey, boss?" A voice from down below pulled the hidden leader out of his evil, plotting trance. "Boss?"

He growled and peered out of the leaves to see the dark haired man who called for him. "What?"

"Are we going to get them by any chance?" The dark haired group-member pointed to the window the leader was previously looking at. "You know, _them_?" He clarified, meaning the trio in the picturesque home who were unknowing of their team meeting just outside the residence.

Only, the trio must have suddenly become aware of the group's presence since three incredibly large birds flew out of the window at that moment.

The crowd below gasped in indignation at the sight.

"They got away!" one woman hollered.

"Not again!" another member bellowed.

"How are we supposed to get them now?" a third shouted.

Through all the chaos, the dark haired man walked back to the tree the leader was lounging in. "Boss? Are we going to get them by any chance?" he repeated from before.

The chief seemed oddly removed from the problem. "No," he slowly replied and thought about how to explain it to the young novice. "The time will come later. Soon, but not now." He grinned and thought of how the birdies would be silenced once and for all—just like the pesky raven he crushed before.

The novice seemed slightly confused by his words, but the leader took no notice of it and continued. "We'll get them, though. Don't you worry," he menacingly added. "I have just the _perfect_ family reunion planned."

_A family reunion that's quite overdo_, he thought to himself.

The group shared a loud, hard laugh, overjoyed by the thought of finally being able to capture the lousy mutants.

The leader smirked and made the painful transition. Fur erupted out of his skin, his muzzle lengthened, and his teeth sharpened into fangs. He grinned a much more horrific smile.

It would happen, he assured himself. He wouldn't allow otherwise.

The birdies would be silenced.

After all, Ari had come back from the dead for it.

**A/N: Ah! Cliffy! Sorry, once again! And sorry once again for ruining the mood with this. But this A/N is actually important, not just a meaningless rant!**

** I have 597 hits, people! Ni-i-ice! Just three from 600! **

** And that's fantabulous (whoaaa, Microsoft Word didn't count that as a misspelling! Is that a word???) and all. But guess what? I have 33 reviews. After that brain-splitting math (calculator, people, hakuna matata), I found out that that's 0.0552 (rounded). That's 5.52 percent. **_**Come on**_**, people! You can do better than that! I don't like to threaten, but I will if you don't review (ha-ha, that was a threat!)!!! Thanks for reviewing, reviewers, buuuuut, nonreviewers, Imma smack ya! "Youma smack me?" YES, Imma smack ya! Don't make me get you! Don't make me get the hose (ha-ha, Mrs. Doubtfire reference. Loooove that movie!)!!! PLEASE, review! Even if you don't like this story. Just tell me what you think!**

** Blegh, I sound so desperate. But, come on, the amount of nonreviewers is just **_**unreasonable**_**.**

** 'Kay, guys, I'm going to ask for a minimum of 10 REVIEWS. If you do, I'll update this weekend (I'll try my absolute hardest!). If not, then I'll still update but probably not 'til next week. I'll see what I can do. Ha-ha, how's that for not threatening?**

** Is Ari really alive? Is this Ari the **_**real **_**Ari? Are the Erasers really back? Was the Eraser group the same gang that attacked José and killed Gabby? Did Max, Angel, and Fang know that the people below where Erasers or, let alone, that there were even people below? When will the Flock find out about the Erasers? What attack are the Erasers planning? How the heck are the Erasers alive? Can my A/Ns get any more annoying and long? Stay tuned to the Countdown to find out!**

** Remember, people, 10 REVIEWS (please?)!**

** And just a curious thought and a bit of foreshadowing to leave you to ponder about…Ari crushed a raven…just you think about that...**

** Review?**

** -Z**


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: …God, I don't know how to say this, but, um… I finally updated ****… To any of my previous readers who are reading this: YOU ARE SUPER LOYAL, YOU KNOW THAT? Man, it's been **_**months**_**. I mean, I haven't updated since March (I think). I'm not going to waste your time by telling why I haven't updated until now, but simply enough, I've been super busy. School = hell, in the simplest of terms. But I'm updating now, and that's all that matters! I'm going to keep this A/N short-ish and just simply say that to compensate (hopefully) for my absence off the face of the Earth, I give you this very long chapter. It's 13 pages on Microsoft Word (I think it may be the longest one yet). It's mostly just an explanation chapter, but it gives an introduction to what the next chapter will be about. And I'll try to update ASAP, okay?**

**A DISCLAIMER since I haven't done one in so long: JP is a man. Already, that eliminates half the world's population from being him. I'm part of that half. Thus, I'm not JP and do not own anything of his except for this particular plot and these OCs. Ta-da.**

**Previously on the Countdown…**

_**The group shared a loud, hard laugh, overjoyed by the thought of finally being able to capture the lousy mutants.**_

_**The leader smirked and made the painful transition. Fur erupted out of his skin, his muzzle lengthened, and his teeth sharpened into fangs. He grinned a much more horrific smile.**_

_**It would happen, he assured himself. He wouldn't allow otherwise.**_

_**The birdies would be silenced.**_

_**After all, Ari had come back from the dead for it.**_

**Okay, now without further ado, here's chapter 10! A/N out!**

10

THE SILENCE WAS deafening. And I know that's physically impossible, but somehow the moment defied _everything_.

As our eyes glanced back and forth from the dead girl on the ground to each one of us, the tense atmosphere between the three of us grew to be unbelievably silent and uncomfortable. Much like I imagine riding in the back of a hearse would be.

I knew what Angel was thinking. Because I knew she was thinking the same exact thing I was. Heck, it she might have even read my troubled, scheming thoughts.

Truth was that though I may have needed to resort to the lowest of the low to do so, I needed José to stay put at our house until I could coax information about his brother's death out of him. And being able to deduce what a caveman probably could, I didn't think that he'd find any reason to stay if he were to find out that his sister was dead. Call me silly. But my basic strategy called for retrieving that information that he may—or may not—have had—somehow. Was it necessary? Yes. Did I have any glimpse of an idea of how to do so? No. To say the least, the plan was shaky at best and nonexistent at worst, but I had come up with worse than that before. And, honestly, it was all I had.

So, I just had to make do.

And, boy, did I have to resort to the lowest of the low.

It was horrible. Terrible, cruel, disgusting, and shameful. I hated myself for even thinking of it. But it would get the job done.

The plan was, essentially, simple. We needed information that José could tell us. In order to tell us that information, we needed José to stay for a while and get comfortable enough with us to reveal his story. In order for him to stay, we needed José to _think_ that his sister was still alive. In order for José to think that, he would need to see his sister in person. And in order for him to see his dead sister "in person"—

Well, that was where Angel came in.

I don't know if you have caught on yet, but Angel would truly make the world's greatest spy. She could eavesdrop onto people's thoughts, copy a person's appearance flawlessly, and even control someone's mind. Really, world's greatest spy or _world's greatest spy_?

Keeping that in mind, Angel would have to play a twisted version of dress-up. Meaning, she would have to disguise herself as Gabby—and really well too, if we were planning on keeping José in the dark for a while. But with her bundle of abilities, Angel could actually have a chance of pulling it off. With her powers of being able to mimic another's features and being able to read thoughts, she could be a clone of Gabby and read José's previous and present thoughts to find out her personality. She could pull of the perfect façade.

But, that didn't change the fact that none of this could be set in motion if Angel didn't want to. After all, she had every right to decline seeing as she probably had enough traumatizing events for one day. _And_, I thought wistfully, _she_'s _only eight. She shouldn't have to do this._

I could practically hear the gears inside my head squeaking with rust. The wheel inside my head rapidly turned, and the hamster on it was becoming a tired one. The thoughts were coming almost _too_ fast for me to remember them.

Which was why I spewed out my appalling idea to Angel and Fang.

Angel didn't seem shocked after hearing it, which was unsurprising to me considering that I already had thought that she was listening in on me brewing up the scheme. She just looked uneasy, which was perfectly understandable in her position.

Fang, however, seemed more taken aback. His eyebrows knit together as he gazed at me steadily with an emotion I couldn't decipher.

I bit my lip, feeling judged by Fang's dark eyes. "Forget about it," I suddenly blurted with a shrug, cutting through the deadly silence like a knife. "It was a stupid idea. It probably wouldn't work anyways. Just—forget about the whole thing, okay?"

A few moments passed, Angel looking uncomfortable as before and Fang now wearing a calculating, but not cold, expression.

Fang spoke up. "Actually," he began slowly, "that doesn't sound so bad."

Now _I _was taken aback. "Wait, what?—"

"No, seriously. Think about it. Angel would be perfect for this. And in time, I'm pretty sure he'd eventually tell us what we need."

I shook my head. "But it wouldn't work out. What would happen once he's told us all he knows?"

It was a question I had been truly fretting over for the last few minutes, but Fang didn't seem at all fazed by it. "We'd have to tell _him_ the truth, of course."

My eyebrows shot up at that. "Oh? And how do propose we do that, Mr. Vague?"

Fang turned himself fully towards me and stared at me head-on. "Through means that we can worry about later."

Despite his "foolproof plan", I wasn't convinced. "I—I don't know," I countered oh-so-articulately.

"Know _what_?"

"About _this_, Fang. All of this."

Still remaining calm and collected he asked, "Well, what's so bad about it?"

Angel started to look back and forth as we bickered, looking as if she were watching her parents fight. _Which I suppose it kind of is_, I thought as I came up with another way to rebut Fang.

I frowned. "It's just so…" I trailed off.

"So _what_?"

"Wrong, Fang!" I finally finished. "_Wrong_. I mean, how could we do that to him—to anyone?"

A beat passed, and when Fang finally spoke, his voice was a lot softer than before. "Max," he sighed. "I know it's bad. But, sadly, we have to. On one hand, we're given him. On the other, we have us. I don't know about you, Max, but—"

"Yeah, I get it." I said, matching his quieter tone. "I choose us, too, Fang." I nodded, feeling more morose. "But Angel shouldn't have to do this. We should only do this if _she_ agrees—"

"Okay."

Slightly startled, I looked down at my brave, brave girl. "What?"

"I said okay," she declared, getting rid of any other signs of uneasiness. "I'll do it."

Fang, being much more confident with the idea, bent down and kissed her own the forehead. "Thank you, sweetheart."

Meanwhile, my expression remained a shocked one. I still couldn't believe that we were going through with this.

Fang stayed crouched down at her level and explained to her what she would have to do. I tuned out for the majority, thinking of how much I needed to pack my bags for the guilt trip I'd be taking. I came back into reality though when I heard Fang's explanation start to wrap up.

"It's going to be even harder than that though, Angel, because José needs to see his sister, but he still needs to see the real you too. So, we're still going to have to find some way for you to play both parts. Now, when we go back, you're going to have to be—"

_Thud!_

Fang and I both looked at each other, alarmed. After a little silent conversation between us, he nodded and I silently walked over to the window. I could feel Fang stare holes into my back as he assumed a protective position around Angel. I reached the window and hesitantly peered through.

It was dark, considering that it was getting quite late, but my raptor vision could still make out a large tree branch on the ground that wasn't there before and distinct moving shapes. People. And they weren't exactly your ordinary kindergarten kids either.

I turned back to Fang and signaled him over with a hand signal. Without making a sound, as always, he made his way over and scanned the scene.

"Good God. Are kids getting their growth spurts early nowadays?" he asked, still skimming through the "children" down below.

"Could be steroids."

"Well, that's always a possibility."

I almost smiled. But I was getting a creeping sensation that was too familiar to ignore. "You know, they almost remind of—" I cut myself off, feeling ridiculous. "Nah, it's impossible."

"Erasers?" he asked. "Yeah, me too." His tone became more urgent. "But it doesn't matter who or what they look like. We have to go."

I nodded. Fang busied himself with opening the window and removing the screen as I turned around to inform Angel of our "surprise getaway".

"Ange? We have to go. We have company."

"No."

For the umpteenth time that night, I found myself taken aback. Willing to be lenient with her since she was so lenient with us, I asked Angel kindly, "Why not?"

"Because."

Now, I was getting annoyed. "Angel, we _have_ to _go_. _Now_."

It was then that I noticed the tears threatening to spill over in Angel's now chocolate brown eyes. "But," she started, sounding incredibly distraught. "We can't just leave her," she said gazing down at the body on the ground.

Oh. "Ange, we need to go. We'll—we'll come back and bury her later. But we have to go." Angel bit her lip, looking away, shoulders limp.

Assuming that was surrender on her part, I clutched onto her hand and ran with her to the window.

"Okay, let's go," I announced. I squeezed Angel's hand reassuringly as Fang flew out the window. I helped her through and then sprung from the second floor house myself.

But what was really odd was that as we flew away from the scene of the crime, I could almost hear infuriated groans and then—laughter. And one particular harsh, cruel laugh was one I recognized. _No_, I thought. _No, there's no way. None._

But that didn't stop the shivers from running up my spine.

When we finally arrived back home, we instantly set our plan in motion. Fang lingered behind and the faux Gabby and I entered the house.

"_Max!_ Oh, we were so worried, and I was _so bored_! Why are you guys so late?" Of course, once we got through the door a moment of piece would be too much to ask. But I was still happy to see Nudge running towards me with a welcoming hug.

Ella was close behind her in attacking me with a massive embrace. "I'm so glad you're alright, Max!"

The others sluggishly made their way towards us. "Oh, uh, hi! You must be Gabby?" Nudge asked, as if remembering her manners and touched Angel's shoulder. Nudge gave a small gasp and seemed to be rendered into silence. I imagined that she probably realized that it was Angel from feeling the vibes that the comforting touch had. She threw me a shocked and bewildered look.

Going for the shy approach, Angel began her act. "Mm-hm. Nice to meet you," she said quietly.

"_Gabby!_" Guilt: initiated. With more energy than I had even seen him muster, José ran over to Angel, his happy-glow blinding. And despite his injured shoulder, he still managed to give her a full-blown bear-hug. Really, the guy was quite the bundle of surprises.

Going along with the gist of it, Angel embraced him just as strongly back. I could see her face from his shoulder, her chocolate eyes almost seeming to be scanning something beyond the foyer we stood in. I knew that face; she was probably thumbing through José's memories and thoughts to find more about Gabby at that very moment.

And she seemed to have found something she could latch onto because, suddenly, Angel burst into tears.

"_Joe_," she wailed, "don't _ever_ leave me like that again." It seemed like she was trying to scold him but just ended up pleading. "_Please_ d-don't—" She cut herself off again as she started bawling again, pushing her face in José's shoulder. I found myself amazed at how well Angel could play someone else. I almost forgot that it _wasn't_ Gabby myself. Heck, Total believed it so much that tears were brimming in his eyes. Angel was just that good.

I repeat myself from before: world's—_greatest_—spy.

"I won't," José reassured her with a shake of his head. "Not ever." He rocked her back and forth soothingly, cooing meaningless words and phrases to comfort her. It's what I would always do on the rare occasion that Angel would cry. More guilt piled onto me.

"Oh," Iggy simply said, looking uncomfortable to be intruding upon the heartfelt reunion. "So, I'm assuming you got her?" he asked, already knowing the obvious answer.

I pressed my lips together. "Yeah."

Gazzy seemed troubled by something. "Where's Angel?" he asked, his protective-older-brother side coming out. "—and Fang?"

Nudge looked at me with knowing eyes, obviously interested to see how I was going to get myself out of this one. But I already had an answer at hand. "We split up." I reasoned that there was no reason to keep the large gang outside of the house a secret so I spilled the beans—with a bit of a white lie. "There was this large group outside the house—probably the same people who attacked you guys, José—so I took Gabby to bring her here safely and Fang and Angel stayed behind to scope out the group. They should be back soon, though."

Ella and Gazzy nodded, probably believing every word. Nudge, of course, was left completely confused. And Iggy, seemed slightly wary, most likely thinking that the plan wasn't 'me' enough. But José didn't show any sign of suspicion, and that was all that mattered at the moment. Now all I had to do was get everyone alone as soon as possible so that I could clear up all the confusion—especially for Nudge's sake.

Angel, of course, already knew that and initiated phase two. "Joe," she mumbled tiredly into his shoulder, "I'm so _tired_. Can we go to sleep?" Just then she broke out in a conveniently-placed yawn.

"Of course, Gabby, sure thing." José looked up at me questioningly.

I nodded my head over to the staircase. "You guys can both crash upstairs. First door to the right is fine," I replied to his unspoken question.

As they treaded up the stairs, I could tell that everyone was waiting for the moment that they would be out of hearing range.

The moment the door closed, Nudge's lapse of quiet broke. "Max, what in the world is—"

I hastily shook my head, pointed up and then gestured to my ear. The Flock nodded in understanding. I beckoned them to follow me as I opened the door and stepped outside. I held the door open as everyone—including our fellow canines—joined me on the doorstep.

As I closed the door, being extra careful to be quiet, I counted down in my head. _3. 2. 1_—

"What the _hell _is Angel doing posing as some other girl, Max?" Nudge asked, now infuriated at being in the dark for so long.

"Okay, Max, where are Fang and Angel really?" Iggy wondered curiously.

"Max, is there something wrong?" Ella asked, completely oblivious.

"What's going on?" Gazzy asked, his sapphire blue eyes wide and innocent.

Okay, these questions were a bit too complex for me to be able to take all at once. "One at a time, guys, one at a time—"

Iggy suddenly registered Nudge's question. "_What? _Who's Angel pretending to be?"

"Wait, is Angel okay?" a now-concerned Gasman asked.

Total's expression would've been hilarious if it were any other situation. "Is anyone else as confused as I am?" he wondered aloud.

"_Guys!_" I interrupted. "Slow down!" I ran a hand through my hair and took a deep breath. This wasn't exactly going to be the easiest thing to explain. "Look, now I know this may look bad—"

Iggy snorted. "You can say that again."

I scowled at him. "I'm glaring at you, Iggy." I began again. "Fine, then. I know this may look bad, but—well, a lot of things happened while we went to get Gabby. It's a long story."

"Do tell," Iggy replied in a carefree tone.

So, I did. I told them everything. Everything from finding the deserted house and poor dead child to our sleazy and complicated plan. At the end, I told them about finding the sketchy group waiting for us outside and our bold escape. I did, however, keep one thing secret: the familiar voice I heard laughing when we flew away. But I saw no reason to tell them, especially since I was almost positive that I had just imagined it.

When I finally finished, I noticed the varying emotions displayed on their faces.

Nudge looked troubled, almost as if she were conflicted between two sides, and also distant. Ella seemed deeply sad, Iggy was obviously surprised but tried to keep it subtle, and Gazzy seemed pretty confused and still worried about something. They all obviously didn't feel too happy with the plot; that was sure. I was positive that they all knew very well how complex and immoral it was—and there was always the chance that it wouldn't even work, of course. But I could also tell that they thought the same way I did. We had to do _something_. And in the end, we had to make ourselves the top priority. Sad but true.

I heard something open and then shut quietly and a fluttering soon after. I looked up to see Angel, now fully back to her own appearance, fall gently from my room to the ground with her wings open to lessen the fall.

"Angel!" Gazzy shouted. He ran up to her and gave her a brief hug. It really was adorable to see what a caring brother he could be sometimes.

"He fell asleep that fast?" I asked.

Angel nodded. "Out like a light."

Ella suddenly realized something. "Wait, but then where's Fang?"

"Actually," I replied, "I'm not too sure. He should be somewhere close by." We only needed Fang gone as an alibi for Angel's absence. It would be too suspicious if we both left Angel without anyone to be there with her. "Come to think of it, where _is _he? He was supposed to wait anywhere around here."

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Fang being Fang, suddenly appeared right next to us, hardly noticeable in the dark night as was. Because, _of course_, it was too much to ask that he make a normal appearance. _Far_ too much.

"Nice having you back, Fnick," Iggy said in the sincere way that only Iggy could manage.

"Nice being back, _Figgy_."

I smiled, surprised out of my previous gloomy state. "Okay, guys. Let's go back inside." And to Angel and Fang, I nodded and stated, "You know what to do."

As soon as everyone spilled back inside the foyer, I called loudly, "You guys are finally home! What happened?" Phase three: initiated.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe what we saw!" Angel mock-called, following my lead.

"Mm. Is that so?" I asked. I really did hope that José woke up and heard them both. He had to know that Fang and Angel especially were here.

I nudged Fang's side. "Yeah," he said simply. I rolled my eyes. What a man of many words. Obviously feeling my annoyance, he elaborated. "Yeah. Uh, we'll have to tell you later, though."

I stared at him. "Are you always this articulate?" I muttered quietly. I switched back to the very loud conversational tone. "Right. Well, then."

"I'm actually really tired," Angel announced. "It's been a really long day. I think I'm just going to head off to bed," she added, loudly making her way upstairs to her room.

Time for her little Houdini act.

Just as planned, José's head popped out from my room and peered down at the scene below. "So, they're back, huh?" he asked, clearly not too joyous to be woken up just as soon as he fell asleep.

"Yep," I replied.

José suddenly turned disoriented to panicked, as if he suddenly remembered something incredibly important. Also according to plan. "Have you guys seen Gabby?"

We all answered no with varying levels of interest and concern as a voice sounded from the kitchen. "Down here, Joe!"

José bolted down the stairs and walked with purpose towards the voice. Slower, we all followed his path. Sure enough, the now-disguised Angel was there, already waiting for him to appear. Just—as—planned. Angel truly deserved a round of applause. Not only did she manage to escape from my bedroom and sneak back into the house through a kitchen window in mere seconds, but she did so without ever showing even a fleck of struggle.

Angel smiled a bit at José. "Just getting a glass of water," she said, gesturing to the glass in her hands. "Sorry."

"Don't worry 'bout it." He clasped Angel's hand and began walking away from the kitchen. "Let's go back to bed."

Very much resembling a herd, we all migrated from the kitchen to the stairs. When we passed the living room, however, José stopped, bringing all of us to a halt, too.

"Um," he awkwardly started. "Would you mind if Gabby and I slept here for tonight? I mean, thank you for the bedroom—it's fine—but it's just that—"

Just that he didn't trust us. Just that he probably didn't want to feel cornered in a second-floor room and most likely would prefer the more spacious living room that had easier access to the front door. Understandable, seeing as I would've done the same.

"It's alright, no problem." Then, suddenly, with another thought, I added, "Actually, we'll all sleep down here—except Angel. She's already asleep in her room. Why not? I'll bring down some extra pillows and blankets."

Because, in all honesty, I didn't trust him either. After all, he did shoot me in the arm and wing way back when. There were very few people I trusted, and I wasn't about to make him one of them overnight.

After everyone grabbed their pillows, blankets, and pajamas and finally settled down, I propped my pillow up against the wall by Fang and sighed. It looked like we were going to have keep watch again. There was one thing I didn't miss from the good ol' days.

I saw Nudge step over Total, Akila, and Magnolia as she made her way over to me. She glanced down at me shyly.

"Um, Max?" she asked. "I was thinking…"

_Here we go_.

"I know this is probably a really bad time to mention this, since you've obviously had a really bad, tiring day, and you must be in a really icky mood after all of that, but I figured it really had to be said since no one else noticed it, I guess. Well—I checked the pantry earlier and…there's nothing left. Well, a bit of dog food—not that_ I_ would ever eat that—but my point is that we really need to get more—soon. I mean, today's over and I'm _starving_, but what are we supposed to do tomorrow—food-wise, I mean?" I was almost surprised that she had taken a pause so soon when she continued. "Not to mention the fact that I have hardly any clothes left at all. They're all either torn up or getting too small on me. I'm growing w_ay_ too fast." With another moment of thought, she added, "I hate sounding so whiny, Max. I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright, Nudge," I said reassuringly. "Besides, it _is _true. You know what, Nudge? Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it. Believe me, tomorrow morning there _will_ be breakfast on the table. And I'll work on the clothes issue, too, in due time. Okay?"

"Thanks, Max." She beamed at me.

"Don't mention it," I replied with a grin.

I stuck out my fist and saw as all of the Flock tapped it with his or her own. It was a nighttime routine that used to be a habit but fell apart since we stayed at my mom's.

I turned my head to face Fang. "So, Comrade, who's taking first watch?"

Our legs intertwined and his arm wrapped around my waist as he thought about it. "Hm, I think you need the sleep more. You didn't really get the healthy eight hours last night."

I rested my head against his chest. My heart warmed at the fact that he cared about me and my health, but, being me, I still countered that statement. "Fang, I _never_ get the healthy eight hours a night. Neither do you. And you woke up pretty early this morning, too." Of course, all of my well-planned rebuttals collapsed as I broke out into a yawn I tried and failed miserably to suppress.

As if that rested his case, Fang just simply said, "I'll take first watch."

At that point, I was willing to submit to that, knowing how the disagreement would end anyways. "But actually wake me up this time! Don't just 'forget' like you do sometimes."

"I'll get third watch, then," Iggy hollered and then added quietly to us, "and lighten up on the PDA, guys. Keep it PG. We have kids here."

"I'm rolling my eyes, Iggy," I replied, but just got a chuckle from him back at me.

I heard Nudge and Ella giggle about a "sleepover" which made me smile to myself. At least it was one normal kid thing they could enjoy. Sort of.

Almost as if he was pounding it into my head that he had first watch, Fang said to me, "Sleep, Max."

I quirked my mouth and sighed. I sat up straight and reached his mouth, giving him a soft, sweet kiss. "Good night, Fang," I murmured against his lips. I felt him smile and he gave me one last small peck. After all, Iggy w_as_ right. We couldn't go all PG-13 with the youngsters around. I slumped back down and rested against his chest, closing my eyes.

"Good night, Max," he replied softly, bending down slightly to kiss me on the forehead. I felt my lips pull into a smile.

At this point, at the end of the long, hard day, I was just wishing to just be able to get at least a few good hours of rest and repair. I really was. It was all I asked. Of course, being me, my mind wandered restlessly, pondering about the day's events until my head hurt.

There was one thing that left me thinking more than others: Nudge's monologue, oddly enough. What she had said was all _so_ true. And if we really didn't have any food, that was going to be a big issue. Especially with as many mouths we had to feed under the same roof. It was going to become a big problem r_eal fast_. I didn't know what to do. There were just so many things we lacked and not enough resources to get them from. After all, José said that all of the stores had been dumped, emptied, and wasted. Also, we _were_ running out of clothes. Nudge and Gazzy were growing especially fast right now, and I was going to have to get them some new wardrobe soon. Honestly, I had to get some fast otherwise we'd have nothing left to wear in the house—

_Wait a second_, I thought. _Nothing left to wear in the house. Wear in the house… Wear… House. Wear. House. Wear-house—_warehouse_._

Hello.

Thoughts came to me in rapid-fire succession from there, one right after the other.

It was possible that all the stores within the area—within the country, even—could now be empty and useless to us. In fact, I was almost positive of it. But what if there was _another_ way we could get the same stuff you could get from a store—not from a store? A _warehouse_. Sure, there was a fat chance that someone else had already thought of it and taken everything they could from it. But…what if not? What if a nearby location was still stocked with all of the necessities we could e_ver need_? It wasn't likely and would probably just end up as a dead-end, but that _what if_ drove me crazy. I just had to try it. However unlikely it was.

I sat up, my mind whirling from all of its busy, busy thoughts. Already, I was brainstorming up a plan.

"Max? What is it?" Fang asked in a concerned tone.

My expression probably looked devious and scheming on the outside, but I felt my heart lift up with an unbelievable amount of hope on the inside. "Looks like you and I are going for a little field trip tomorrow, Fang."

**A/N: Now, I now I've been extremely irresponsible with these updates so I'm not going to ask for too many reviews because, honestly, I understand. But it would be nice. Please, review. I really like to hear the audience's feedback. Tell me if you liked it, loved it, disliked it, or hated it. Specifics are nice, too. Thanks for reading!**

** Review?**

** -Z**


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